A New Swordsman in Los Angeles - Part 3
by Frapper
Summary: NWZ AU story, continuation from the trilogy "A New Swordsman in Los Angeles" parts 1 and 2. Vladimir is back from the death causing a lot of trouble for Diego and everyone else at the pueblo, and the rivalry between Victoria and Cristina escalates when Diego loses his memory. Story taking part in the 3rd challenge "An Unexpected gift." Please read parts 1 and 2 first.
1. Chapter 1 - Unexpected News

**Author's notes**** \- This story takes part on the 3****rd**** challenge "An Unexpected Gift", which should include: someone must receive an unexpected gift; the alcalde's desk must be mentioned; Zorro must hang from the chandelier; someone should get wet on a storm; there should be a scene from an actual episode. **

**This is a continuation from my story taking part in the first challenge "Too much wine", and the second challenge "A Death in the Pueblo." I thought it was an interesting idea to write 3 linked stories with the requirements for the 3 challenges. In the end, it was a much bigger challenge, with Part 3 getting out of hand on the word count.**

**There are a few original characters introduced on the first part. You should read PART 1 and 2 of "A New Swordsman in Los Angeles" first, or you won't have a clue what's going on, with Diego married to a stranger. ;) **

**WARNING: again, a few injuries and detailed, realistic medical treatments. Nothing too alarming, but skip those if you don't like blood and pain (but that was real life for a surgeon at a time without painkillers and proper anaesthetics.)**

**The story gets darker as new baddies come along, with some scenes of sexual violence (some bits will be marked as M/MA for explicit contents, but there are warnings to skip those.) Apart from those specific bits, I kept the story T-rated as a whole.**

**DISCLAIMER: this story is based on the NWZ series. It is a non-profit project intent for entertainment purposes only. All copyrights on the characters belong to Zorro Productions Inc. except the original characters created by me (i.e. the Blasco family and Roberto Malpartida). **

**A New Swordsman in Los Angeles**

**Part 3**

**Chapter 22 – Unexpected news **

The special mixture was working better than expected. On his reflection in the mirror, Diego could hardly see any traces of the scars on his torso. However, down at the cave, the dim light provided by the candles was not the best one to appreciate the full effect of his new invention, so he got upstairs to look at it by daylight. When he opened the secret door behind the fireplace he startled Felipe, who was quietly reading in the library.

"Felipe, come with me. I want to show you something."

Quite intrigued, the young man followed Diego to his room.

"Look at this. Can you see the scars?" Diego said, taking his shirt off.

Felipe approached him and touched the spots where he knew the scars were, but he could not see them. He shook his head, amazed, with a broad smile.

"I have been working on this for a few days. I want to surprise Cristina; she doesn't like scars," Diego said with a cheeky wink. "And it may come in handy if I ever need to conceal them. This is the paste," he said, handing it over. "Help me to cover them all. I can't reach some of them, specially the gunshot on my back. You'll have to apply several layers, letting it dry in between, and then cover it with this powder to match my skin tone."

Felipe did as instructed. It took him a while, because Diego's body was covered with marks, new and old. It was sort of a miracle he didn't have any on his face or neck, which would have been very obvious for everybody, making the task of identifying him as Zorro a piece of cake.

"That's perfect. Thank you, Felipe. Now I have to find out how long I can leave it on before it rubs off." He slipped his clothes back on. "Hopefully it will last until tonight."

He laughed, slapping Felipe's shoulder on their way out. The youngster smiled back with an understanding cheeky look on his face.

ZZZ

The time had come to walk away; the patient wait was over. After collecting his weapons and his blue coat, which hung quite loose as he had lost so much weight, he started to slowly make his way downstream. Coming out of his prison, he focused on the difficult task ahead: descending down the narrow canyon, all the way thinking about that glorious moment when he finally would be able to release the vast amount of hatred he had bottled up inside. A sinister grin distorted his face while dreaming up his enemy's fate, a certain death by his hand.

ZZZ

That night, an exhausted Cristina lay in bed half asleep already, waiting for Diego, who was taking his time to get undressed. Her day had been quiet and boring, but she felt as if she had been running non-stop for 24 hours, and all she wanted to do was to fall asleep.

"Do you see anything different?" Diego said while walking slowly around the room in his underwear, stretching his arms wide open and turning round a couple of times, proudly showing his muscular torso. Cristina blinked drowsily. She didn't have a clue what he was talking about, and finally said, uncertain:

"Uh… did you shave?"

"No! Pay more attention, will you?" he said slightly cross, turning round again. Then she realized.

"The scars. They are gone!" she gasped, sitting up a bit. "How did you do that?"

"I have been working on a special concealer, just for you," he said, winking. "It is a shame, because if I keep using this cream, I won't be _cool _anymore. But you will be happy, no hideous scars to bother your eyes."

"Stop using that silly word," she said, elbowing him when he jumped in bed close to her. She accommodated her head on his now unscarred torso, her favourite pillow. "_Cool_? It doesn't make sense. You are not cold, if anything you are warmer than a burning fireplace." She kissed his warm skin and hugged him while yawning. "And I love you, all of you, so that means I also love your scars. No need to hide them," she added with a sluggish, somnolent voice.

Diego pushed her gently away from him, back on her pillow, and then reached for her mouth. She reacted weakly to the kiss, lifting her left arm around his neck, but soon her hand slipped down back on the bed when she fell asleep in his arms. He was disappointed, but he smiled looking at her adorable, beautiful face.

"I love you too," he whispered, tenderly kissing her forehead. Then, he turned to lie on his back, and with great care he lifted her limp head to place it back on top of his chest. He fell asleep shortly after while caressing her gorgeous, shiny dark hair.

ZZZ

A very distressed Felipe rushed into the library the next day. He was out of breath, red faced and sweaty, and eager to communicate something to Diego.

"Felipe, what's wrong?"

The young man started to gesticulate frantically, moving his arms like a windmill.

"Please, slow down, I can't understand you."

Felipe ran his hands over his head, puffing in frustration, and started again, slower this time.

"So, you were at the ravine today… and you looked down into the precipice again... Why? You shouldn't do that. I told you it is dangerous. Cristina nearly fell down because a portion collapsed and—"

Felipe shook his head and grabbed Diego's arm, shaking it to make him shut up and listen, and he continued signing.

"What? You could only see one body at the bottom?"

Felipe nodded vigorously.

"Are you sure? There should be two bodies there quite close together, unless they were taken by predators. Calm down, we will go and have a look again. I am sure there should be a logical explanation for that."

Two months had passed since that day when the Cossack brothers chased him to the other side of the ravine, where two men plunged to their death. Diego had recovered quite well from all his injuries, but he was still convalescent regaining his strength, especially on his left arm, which was significantly weaker after all that time immobile in the bulky sling so the muscles could heal without tension.

Only five days ago Zorro had been out exercising Toronado on a gentle ride, and they had been in that area close to the ravine. Diego, not very proud of the fact he had killed one of the Russians in self-defence, had looked down from the edge to check on the bodies. He would have preferred to have them properly buried, but nobody had bothered to try to reach them as it would have been quite difficult, if not impossible. That day he clearly saw two body shapes at the bottom, and it was quite hard to imagine the situation would have changed, so he assumed Felipe was confused. Nonetheless, he went along with him to check, to calm him down.

"Where are you going, handsome prince of _coolness_?" Cristina said when she saw the pair getting their horses ready by the main entrance, fastening the girth straps. "Are you well enough to ride?"

Diego chuckled facing the saddle; she didn't know yet he had been out as Zorro. He turned around to face her.

"Of course I am, dear, don't worry. Would you like to join us?" he offered.

She had recovered from her injuries herself, and she was very keen to ride again —especially now that she could finally ride like a man, astride, without the uncomfortable sidesaddle— but she had to decline the offer. She would love to go riding with them, but, for the last couple of days, she had felt run down on energy, and most food would make her heave, especially in the mornings. She suspected the cause for this, but she had not confirmed it yet. Men didn't talk about female morning sickness at the taverns, so she would have to ask her mother about it. She sighed at the thought of another _talk_ with her.

"No, I can't. Maybe the next time. I don't feel very well today."

"What's wrong?" Diego asked, concerned. It was unusual for her to fall asleep as she did the night before.

"Oh, nothing specific. I am just tired. Don't worry, enjoy the ride," she said, turning around to go back to the house. Half way on, she turned to face them again.

"Behave yourself, don't overdo it," she warned with her finger pointing at her husband. Diego laughed while mounting up the saddle, shaking his head.

"After your warning I wouldn't dare, _querida_. I am not that brave. See you later."

He spurred his horse and they trotted away, followed by Felipe and his pinto.

ZZZ

To Diego's surprise, Felipe was right. There was only one body at the bottom of the ravine, where it should have been two.

"I don't understand. I could see two bodies there less than a week ago," he said, scratching the back of his neck, looking down from the ravine's edge.

"_So, what should we do?_" Felipe signed.

"We have to find a way to go down to check what happened. It is hard to believe a man could have survived that fall. Sure the Russian cannot be alive after all this time," he muttered, but he started to have the unsettling feeling that was precisely the case.

They mounted back on their horses and rode downstream for a couple of miles, closer to the spot where it was possible to come down the canyon to cross the river. Leaving the horses tied up to a thick branch, they continued on foot following the stream toward the spot where the bodies were, two miles upstream from there. All the way up, Diego scrutinized the ground looking for clues.

"There, look!" he exclaimed, pointing to a distinctive set of human prints in the soft ground on the river bank. The prints where heading downstream, to the point where they had entered the canyon.

Felipe signed again.

"Could it be someone who has come to bury the body? I don't know, maybe. Let's go further up to find out."

Diego frowned because he could not see any other footprints heading up. Their own prints were clearly visible behind them, so it looked like nobody had come upstream before them, only down. As the canyon walls grew taller and the passage narrowed, they had difficulty to climb up some of the water jumps along the wet, large stones. They had been struggling for a while and were about to give up, when suddenly they spotted the first body lying on the river bank. It was greatly decomposed, and stunk so much they had to cover their faces with their sleeves. Vladimir's body wasn't there, and there were no signs of a burial in the area. What they could find was a pile of human waste further up, and remains of a fire with some fish backbones lying by. They also found a small cave that could have been used for shelter, and an incongruous but convenient apple tree growing at the bottom of the gorge, with a large amount of ripe apples covering the ground.

"I'll be damned. He did survive," Diego said looking up to the edge, which was a long distance away, whistling with admiration. "Who would have thought that was possible? Well, we can see he had cooked fish and lots of apples to survive, and plenty of fresh water. I guess he left his coat on the ground so nobody would suspect he was alive, but I don't know with what purpose."

Felipe signed, finishing drawing a Z in the air.

"Revenge? From Zorro? Possibly…Maybe he was afraid I would come down here to kill him if I knew he had survived. But, on the other hand, the other bounty hunters would have helped him if they knew he was alive. Nobody bothered because we didn't think it was possible to survive the fall. Let's go back home, we know all we need to know from here."

"_Where is he now_?" Felipe signed.

"I don't know. That's the next thing we need to find out, but not here. Come on," Diego said, covering his face again when he passed close to the cadaver on his way down. He considered the unpleasant task to bury such a decomposed body, but he decided against it, because they didn't have the tools and the stench was unbearable.

ZZZ

"Mother, I need to talk to you, please," Cristina said shortly after her arrival at the Blasco's Hacienda, which she had reached driving the small carriage. She was sitting down in an armchair in the main room, opposite to Doña María Luisa, quite exhausted after the trip.

"What is it about, dear?"

"Is it normal for a woman to feel very tired and nauseous… when she is pregnant?"

"Yes, it is. I was sick several times… but… wait. What do you mean? Are you? Are you pregnant?" she asked, all excited.

"I think I may be. I don't feel well. I am very weak and tired and can hardly eat anything… Food stinks. My period is late. And my breasts are huge, and painful."

Doña María Luisa stood up and hugged her daughter enthusiastically.

"You are definitely pregnant, my dear! The stinky food, the nausea and the swollen breasts are always a giveaway," she said, laughing. "The good news is that the nausea usually goes away later on during the pregnancy. You will feel better when you are four or five months pregnant. I guess you must be… what? Less than two months far?" she asked, raising one eyebrow. Cristina blushed. She got married two months ago, and her mother was assuming she waited for the wedding night.

"Yes, mother, we waited. Everything was _proper_, don't worry. Diego is a gentleman."

"Of course he is, dear. But, he was sick for so long after he was shot… And you were sick yourself the day after the wedding…"

"Yes, I know. It must have been a _first time lucky_ event."

They both giggled.

ZZZ

Cristina had just returned to the Hacienda De la Vega when Diego and Felipe arrived back from their visit to the ravine. Diego dismounted and went into the house while Felipe waited outside with the horses.

"Cristina, I have unsettling news. The Cossack bounty hunter that I pushed into the ravine survived the fall. He is alive," he said, bluntly, because he didn't know how to make the shocking news any more palatable.

"What? Alive? That's impossible," she dismissed, shaking her head. "I saw him bouncing off the wall twice on his way down, and I heard the noise of the cracked bones when he hit the bottom. He cannot be alive."

"Well, he is," he said, lifting his palms up. "Unbelievable, but true."

"Where is he now?" she asked, anxiety settling in quickly.

"I don't know. Looking for Zorro, probably. I have to find out."

"You are not going out as Zorro while that killer is looking for him, are you?"

"No, don't worry. Just as myself," he replied, quickly walking outside to get back to his horse. He galloped away followed by Felipe before Cristina had the chance to tell him her exciting news.

ZZZ

"Ignacio, I am telling you: the Russian is alive."

"Don't be ridiculous, Diego. That's impossible," the alcalde said, sitting down in his high chair at his desk, which still had the huge "Z" Zorro had carved at the top a few months ago. "Nobody can survive that fall."

"I know, but he did. He is not there at the bottom, where he used to be. There is only one body lying there. We checked," Diego said, involving Felipe in the conversation.

"And what do you care if he is alive or not, anyway?" De Soto sniggered.

Diego looked at him quite cross. Of course he cared. Right now, the Russian was probably looking for his other self to kill him.

"Unless you are scared —are you?" De Soto said, laughing.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am. I don't want to be shot again. Once is enough."

"Vladimir has no reason to shoot you, has he?"

"Neither had the German, and he did," Diego complained. "And, I was not supposed to survive; nobody thought I would, and I did. It is the same with the Russian. He has survived against all odds."

"Oh, that reminds me… Aren't you supposed to be in jail? I told you duelling is illegal. You killed a man, and that should be punished," he said, stroking his beard, pondering if he should get his schoolmate in jail or not, now that he had recovered.

"I hope you are joking, Ignacio. But it's not funny, not at all," Diego replied, raising his voice, quite upset now. Felipe retreated to a corner, willing to disappear.

"I am not joking," De Soto said firmly, looking at Diego with cold eyes because he didn't like his harsh tone. _De la Vega looks all cocky after his encounter with the German, all of a sudden a strong-willed man_. "The law should be the same for everybody, no exceptions."

Diego laughed at his words.

"That's certainly funny, coming from you."

"That's it now. You asked for it. Mendozaaaaaaa!" he shouted. The Sergeant came quickly into the office.

"Sí, mi Alcalde?"

"Mendoza, take Don Diego to jail, please," De Soto ordered, calmly.

"You cannot be serious!" Diego shouted, stamping his fist on the desk. "I come here to warm you about the danger of having a killer on the loose again, and you come up with this. Unbelievable!"

"Of course I am serious. You are going to stay in jail for a while. That will teach you. Sergeant, take him away."

Mendoza hesitated, swinging nervously, switching his weight form foot to foot.

"But, mi Alcalde… I don't think Don Diego should…"

"Mendoza! You are not supposed to _think_, just do as you are told! Take Don Diego to a cell. NOW!" the alcalde barked.

"I am sorry, Don Diego, but I have to take you in," Mendoza apologized with a pathetic voice.

"Don't worry, just do your job, Sergeant," Diego said, walking slowly to the back door, followed by Mendoza. "Felipe, tell my father what happened," he said while signing: _bring the horse tonight_.

Diego heard De Soto sniggering behind him but he didn't turn around to face him, just clenched his fists in frustration on his way out. This time, Zorro would have to get himself out of jail.

ZZZ

"The alcalde has done _what_?" Don Alejandro said, enraged.

Felipe signed again, in case he hadn't understood the first time, but he had.

"How dare he, that slimy snake, son of a…" he ranted while getting ready to go, collecting his riding gloves, shaking them at the ghosts in the air while shouting all sort of insults.

"What's wrong, Don Alejandro?" Cristina said, alarmed by all that yelling.

"The alcalde has got Diego in jail because of the duel! Inconceivable!" he shouted. "He nearly died then, for Christ sake! He didn't choose to get involved with that bloody German!"

"Are you going to see him now? Can I go with you? I need to tell him something."

"Yes, of course. Let's go!" he said, heading for the door.

"Can we go in the carriage, please?"

"Why? Riding will be faster," he said, perplexed. He knew Cristina was an accomplished rider, and she seemed to enjoy riding. "I thought you were healed. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I am, but…" she didn't want to tell him yet, she wanted to tell the father first. "Oh, well, I'll tell you why, you are going to find out very soon, anyway. But I wanted Diego to be the first one to know. I guess it doesn't matter."

"What is it?" Don Alejandro asked, getting worried now.

"I am pregnant."

"Pregnant? Really? That's wonderful, congratulations!" he said, changing moods in an instant. He hugged and kissed her, laughing. "Felipe! Get the carriage ready. She is pregnant!"

Felipe smiled widely and hugged Cristina too before heading for the stables.

"Are you all right? Sure?"

"Yes, I am fine, but I feel quite tired and I don't want to ride."

"Yes, of course, don't worry. You are right, it will be better if you don't ride." He was over the moon, and could not stop smiling. "A grandchild. I am going to be an _abuelo_!"

"Yes, you are," Cristina said, laughing at his reaction.

"And Diego doesn't know?"

Cristina shook her head.

"My son is going to be a father and he is in jail!" he shouted, changing his mood again. "Come on. Let's get him out of there."

ZZZ

Vladimir walked into the alcalde's office without knocking at the door, just flung it open as if he owned the place.

"Good afternoon, Alcalde," he said to the man at the desk. Startled, De Soto threw the papers he was reading in the air when he stood up with a jump.

"You! It is true, you are alive!" he exclaimed in awe. If Diego had not warned him about it beforehand, he would have thought the Russian was a ghost. He looked emaciated, with large, dark circles under his tired eyes, dry scorched skin, and cracked lips.

"Yes, I am alive. Who told you that?"

"Diego de la Vega. But it doesn't matter who, does it? What happened to you? We thought you died by falling in the ravine."

"I didn't fall. Zorro pushed me. And he is going to pay for it. And the other one, the one who killed my brother. That one will pay too. Has Zorro been captured yet?"

"No, he is still out there. How did you survive the fall?"

"I was unconscious for a while. Don't know for how long, at least a couple of days, I guess. I had several broken bones, multiple injuries, and I couldn't move. I cried for help many times, but then I realized I had to get out of there myself; no one was coming to my rescue."

"I told you, everybody thought you were dead. There was no need for a rescue party."

"Which day is today?" he asked, looking around him, confused. The alcalde told him.

"Don't worry, you only missed a couple of months, it is still 1820," De Soto said, chuckling.

"Where is Karl? And the rest of the men? I went to your house, but nobody was there."

He had forced the door and had stayed in the alcalde's empty property for a day, resting after the effort of coming out of the gorge. While he was there, he checked that the metal box he and his brother had buried nearby —which contained money and some personal belongings— was still there. Living with men of dubious reputation had made them very cautious, and they always hid their valuables away while on a job. In this case, it turned out to be an excellent idea, because otherwise, the other bounty hunters would have taken everything when they thought the brothers were dead, never to be seen again.

"Karl is dead, and the others left Los Angeles. Well, I guess you don't know the whole story at all, do you?"

"No, tell me. What happened?"

"Your boss went crazy. He attacked everybody in the pueblo. He maimed Don Francisco at the party, beat the Italian… then shot the doctor…"

"That Italian, what did he look like?"

"Thin, tall, dark hair. Dressed with a blue waistcoat, brown hat—"

"That's him! That's the man who killed my brother, the one who came jumping over the ravine to help Zorro. Where is he now?"

"I don't know. Damn! He was Zorro's accomplice after all! He was in jail, but he escaped; Zorro helped him out. Karl was right!"

The alcalde started pacing around the room, greatly irritated remembering the lost opportunity.

"We haven't seen him since. Maybe he is dead. Karl nearly drowned him, and I am quite sure he broke his ribs badly. He could hardly breathe." He continued pacing around, thinking aloud. "Now that I think about it, nobody has seen Zorro since, either."

"He was injured. Before he pushed me into the ravine, I sank my sword in his left arm, right to the bone. He should have a large scar there, or he may have lost the arm all together. Or he may even be dead. Down at the ravine, while my bones were healing, I had a lot of time to think, and now I have a plan to unmask him. All we need to do is to check every man in the territory, make a list and have them one by one showing us their left arm, and we'll find him."

"That's an excellent idea. That may work!" De Soto exclaimed, excited. "I can use the official census list for that." He sat down at his desk again, searching in the middle drawer.

"You still haven't told me who killed Karl, or how."

"Your boss challenged Diego de la Vega to a shooting duel. Apparently, De la Vega blew his head off with a lucky shot. Karl shot him first, and he nearly died too."

Vladimir looked confused.

"You mention that name before. You said De la Vega told you I was alive before anybody knew."

"That's right. What a coincidence." De Soto's brain was on fire by then with all the intense thinking. Smoke could have come out of his ears. "De la Vega… no, it can't be…There it is," he said, waiving the list.

"Where is that De la Vega? He must be a very skilled fighter to be able to kill Karl Jäger."

"Actually, he is in jail because duelling is illegal. How ironic!" De Soto said, chuckling. "And he is not a fighter. Or a shooter. I saw him practicing before the duel and he couldn't hit the target; he was pathetic. His guardian angel must have been aiming his gun at your boss, or it was just plain luck that he hit him at all."

"I want to see him. I want to see that man."

"Very well, let's go," De Soto said, quite intrigued by his intentions, heading for the back door.

When they stepped into the patio, Vladimir heard a distinctive loud neigh, coming from the stables.

"That's my horse. Do you have my horse, Alcalde?"

De Soto fidgeted, nervous. The lancers had found the Cossack horses wandering around the country side a couple of days after their owners had _died_ at the ravine. De Soto was particularly fond of Vladimir's, and didn't want to give him away. With that horse, he knew he could be able to outrun Toronado.

"Eh… No… You must be mistaken. Stop! Where are you going?" he cried, following the Russian, who was heading for the stables with a purposeful stride, ignoring him. Getting there, he pointed to the lean, long, beautiful chestnut horse whose coat was smooth and shiny, and was reflecting the sun light coming through the roof with an almost metallic sheen.

"That's my horse." The expression in his face, together with the hand resting in the hilt of his Cossack sword, made the alcalde give up on any intentions to keep the horse. "And that's my brother's."

"Are they? Are you sure? We found them lost in the northern territory," the alcalde chirped.

"Yes. Sure." Vladimir was not going to argue. "You can keep my brother's. I don't need it. Where is the saddle?"

"Let me see… Mendozaaaaaaa!"

DeSoto sighed, relieved. At least he could keep one of the horses.

ZZZ

Diego was sitting in a distant corner in his cell, trying to detach himself from the situation, keeping his mind empty in relaxation, with his head down. He didn't notice the visitors coming in until the alcalde called him.

"Diego de la Vega, you have one visitor," he sniggered. "Get up!"

"What?" Diego said, lifting his head.

"You! You are the man we whacked at the tavern!" the Russian exclaimed.

Diego blinked in disbelief and stood up, coming a bit closer to the bars, but still keeping some distance.

"And you are supposed to be dead."

Vladimir looked at him intently. He was tall like Zorro, and he had seen him knocking down a tough man with a powerful punch. He also remembered seeing that man galloping away on a horse, and he was an excellent rider. And on top of that, he had defeated one of the most skilled and cruel gunman he had ever met on a shooting duel. He had to be Zorro. His eyes narrowed to a thin line, and then he ordered with a glacial tone:

"Show me your left arm, close to your shoulder."

Diego didn't move, so surprised by this command he just stood still, frozen.

"Do you really think he is Zorro?" De Soto said. "I know; there are too many coincidences, but… I don't think so."

Vladimir drew his gun, and extended his arm through the bars, aiming at Diego.

"Show me your arm. Now!" he demanded.

"See, Alcalde? That's what I was talking about before. You said he didn't have a reason to shoot me. Apparently, everybody has one," Diego complained with his hands up.

De Soto was looking at both men, alternating between them, puzzled by the situation.

"All right, Diego. Show us your arm and I can tick you off the list. Come on, it will only take a minute," he asked gently, trying to defuse the tension.

Diego knew he didn't have a choice. Praying for the concealer to be still in place, he started to undo his shirt slowly, with his eyes fixed on the gun. Half way down the row of buttons, he just pulled from his right sleeve to reveal his right shoulder and upper arm.

"The other arm!" the Russian growled.

_Damn. He remembers well,_ Diego thought.

He put the shirt back over his shoulder again, and pulled from the other sleeve, revealing his left shoulder without looking at it. He didn't dare, unable to look away from the gun, like a frozen prey looking at its hunter. He thought he was about to see the flash coming out from the gun just before the bullet would hit him, in the same way as it had happened when Karl shot him.

"I told you he wasn't Zorro," De Soto said.

Diego looked at his arm. He could just see the scar showing through the concealer, but they probably could not see it from the distance.

"Come closer," the Russian ordered.

Diego only walked a couple of steps toward them, but turned slightly so they could see his shoulder better.

"Why do you want to see my shoulder?" he asked, playing ignorance.

"Zorro should have a large scar there, on his left arm," the alcalde said.

"But I don't."

"We can see that. Shall we go now?" De Soto asked the Russian, who was still aiming at Diego, unconvinced.

"How did you know I was alive?"

"Felipe realized there was only one body at the bottom of the ravine. I keep telling him not to go near that place because it is dangerous, but teenagers are not very good at listening. I guess he was fascinated looking at the dead men from above," Diego explained, trying to be casual while he repositioned his shirt and buttoned up.

Vladimir pulled out his gun through the bars and walked away, shooting a last glacial look at Diego, who sighed deeply when they left. He sat down again at the distant corner, shaking, his knees feeling very weak this time.

_Thank God for Cristina and her aversion to scars!_

ZZZ

Cristina had been allowed to visit Diego while Don Alejandro tried to convince alcalde De Soto to release his son. Alone in the empty jail space —because Mendoza had been so tactful to leave the room after guiding her there from the office— they could hear the loud shouting through the thick walls.

"The Russian is really alive, he was here. He came to check on my arm, aiming his gun at me. He and the alcalde are looking for a man with a scar in his left arm. They are planning to check everybody in Los Angeles. Thank God that paste I used yesterday just to please you was still covering it. That was so lucky, thank you," Diego said.

"I will come later as Leonardo to get you out of here."

"No. Don't do that. You killed his brother, remember? Sure he is looking for the Italian too. Please, don't," he begged, extremely anxious, grabbing the cell bars so tight his knuckles turned white. She never listened to him, and he was in no position to physically stop her now.

"All right then, I won't. Anyway, I've not been feeling well for the last few days; I am so tired and weak."

"Go now and see doctor Hernández then, please."

"I don't think he can do anything about it, Diego. Apparently, it is normal in my condition: I am pregnant," she said, with a radiant smile.

"What?" He could not believe it, speechless with the unexpected news. "So soon? How?" he managed to babble out in the end.

"You know _how_," she said, laughing at his bewildered expression. "It must have been that awkward first time, before the duel. You have to be so efficient at everything you do, don't you?"

He reached for her through the bars, caressing her face, his obvious joy shining in his eyes.

"That's wonderful news, _mi amor_. I am so happy. Now, you have to take care of yourself. No more stunts, please. Tell Felipe to forget about the plan, don't do anything tonight. I'll stay here for a few days until the alcalde gets bored waiting for Zorro, who is not going to show up. I'll be fine, don't worry."

He reached for her hand and kissed it, but that was not enough for her. She came closer to the bars and reached for his mouth, kissing him as if it was the last time she would ever see him, squeezing his hand tightly. He passed his other arm through the bars to embrace her, drawing her even closer.

De Soto came into the jail while they were oblivious to the world, followed by Don Alejandro. The alcalde cleared his throat loudly when he spotted them.

"_Señora_, get away from the prisoner, if you please," he said.

She pulled away from the bars, still maintaining contact holding hands, but the alcalde came between the couple, pushing her gently away until she reluctantly let go of Diego's hand.

"My wife just told me I am going to be a father," Diego announced proudly. "I hope I will be out of here by then."

"Congratulations," the alcalde mumbled, unsympathetic. "We'll see about that. Your father here is giving me a royal headache."

"I am going to Monterey to see the Governor," he started again, waving his gloves behind the alcalde. "You'll see, you'll see. I—"

"I had enough of that!" De Soto shouted, holding his hand up while rolling his eyes, not turning to face Don Alejandro, as if ignoring him. Then, he remembered something, and smiled showing his front teeth maliciously.

"By the way, Zorro was injured in his left arm while fighting with Vladimir at the ravine," he said, turning around to face the old don. "Can I see your arm, please? I am planning to check everybody in the territory. I already checked your son's, although that was completely unnecessary; no way on Earth he could be Zorro," he sniggered.

Cristina had to look away covering her smile with her hand, supressing a giggle.

"My arm? What the…?"

"Yes, your arm. I am looking for a large scar there," he said, pointing at the spot. "Can you please remove your shirt so I can have a look?"

"This is preposterous! No way I'm going to agree to that stupid game! You have no right to…" He went on and on ranting again, shaking the gloves as a maraca.

"Father please, just do it and get out of here. And take Cristina to the doctor before you head home. Please."

Don Alejandro stopped complaining and pulled off his tie with a furious tag. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt and waistcoat.

"The Governor will know about this too," he warned, when he finally uncovered his left shoulder and upper arm. De Soto came closer to inspect the area, unsurprised when he didn't find any markings there.

"So what? It is called _initiative_, De la Vega, something quite necessary around here. Get out of my sight now!" he said, pointing to the door.

Don Alejandro readjusted his shirt loosely and put his waistcoat back on, not bothering with the buttons yet, and headed for the door.

"Come on, Cristina. Let's go to see doctor Hernández. See you soon, Son."

She followed him, blowing a kiss to Diego on her way out.

"_Hasta luego," _she whispered. He waved to her through the bars.

"Bye now, take care."

De Soto shook his head closing the door behind them, leaving Diego alone. All that tender display of affection made him sick. And jealous, as well.

ZZZZZ


	2. Chapter 2 - Searching for an Injured Arm

**Chapter 23 – Searching for an injured arm**

Following orders, Sergeant Mendoza placed a ban in the plaza, ordering all the men in the territory to attend a compulsory physical examination. For the next few days there was a crowd waiting outside the alcalde's office, buzzing around like bees, to have their left arms checked by De Soto or the Russian. Mendoza sat at a small table, in charge of the tedious task of ticking off the names from the alcalde's list. And, in the meantime, Diego was still locked up in jail.

"Thank you, Felipe," Diego said while collecting his daily basket of food through the bars. He didn't like the food provided in jail, but the exchange was mainly a good excuse to keep in touch. "Did you bring some…?" he asked, lowering his voice because Sepúlveda was lurking just a few meters away from them.

Felipe nodded. He usually hid a small amount of the concealer paste in the food, to be reapplied on Diego's scar in case the Russian decided to have a look again.

Vladimir was frustrated because he was making no progress with the search outside, and he still had the naggingfeeling that the perfect candidate to fit Zorro's description was Diego de la Vega, although the alcalde didn't seem to share this opinion. There were only a few more men to check that afternoon, and then, with his plan an epic fail, he would be in the same position as before: not having a clue about Zorro's identity.

"How is Cristina? Is she all right?" Diego asked.

Felipe made a gesture, as if pretending to vomit.

"She was sick today, ah?"

Diego started pacing about, like a wild animal in a tiny cage.

"I should be home with her, rather than wasting my days here!" he cried, banging his fist on the bars. The soldier looked at him and tut-tutted, shaking his head as a warning. Felipe, careful to position himself at the right angle to obstruct the lancer's view, drew a Z in the air, so only Diego could see it.

"Maybe," he whispered, stroking his growing beard. "But I will need to shave first."

Felipe nodded, smiling. He didn't like how unkempt Diego looked after only one week in jail.

"Corporal Sepúlveda, can Felipe bring a few things so I can wash and shave? Staying in this jail undignifies, it is a total nuisance. I can't keep my appearance," Diego complained, as the wimpy caballero he was pretending to be would do in a major life crisis, like that one.

"I guess so, Don Diego. I don't think you are going to kill yourself or try to attack us with the razor, are you?" he said, chuckling. "But, just in case, I will ask the alcalde first."

Sepúlveda walked out the jail. When they were left alone, Diego kept instructing Felipe.

"Come back again later with that stuff, and… you know… the other stuff. No need to bring Toronado this time; Zorro is just going to visit the alcalde, and convince him to free Diego de la Vega."

"_How are you planning to_ _escape?_" Felipe signed.

"Bring Zorro's clothes, and the poisoned darts. You'll neutralize the guards here; then you can open the door for me with that key," he suggested, pointing to the key ring hanging in the wall, "and while you stay inside the cell on my bed pretending to be me, asleep, I'll have a little chat with De Soto. Easy!"

Diego smiled, slapping Felipe's shoulder through the bars.

_Yeah. Easy,_ Felipe thought, unconvinced.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro wrote a letter to the governor and the magistrates in Monterey complaining about the situation, because Diego had really acted in self-defence. It was a risky thing to do, because he was admitting his son had taken part in a duel, which officially was —as De Soto had pointed out so clearly— illegal. But duelling was still a common practice in the territory, as it was in the rest of the civilized world, and most authorities would turn a blind eye to these episodes. The main reason to ban duelling was to avoid unnecessary casualties in the army, among the officers and the rest of the troops, when the men would kill each other for the most ridiculous questions of honour rather than fighting together against the enemy. And, duelling also served another purpose for non-skilled people: to have someone else to take the blame for the killing. Banning the duels was the way to avoid the risk of having wealthy caballeros paying thugs to kill their enemies under any pretences of discredited honour rather than doing the job themselves.

Don Alejandro wanted to travel to Monterey himself, but he decided it would take him too long, and he didn't want to abandon his son in jail. Besides, even if her parents lived closed by, he felt he had the duty to take care of Cristina while her husband was locked up.

ZZZ

That afternoon, Mendoza ticked off the last name in the council census list.

"That was the last one, mi Alcalde," he announced. De Soto and Vladimir looked at each other.

"Your brilliant plan wasn't that brilliant, after all," the alcalde said, tired and annoyed after the long days spent looking at so many arms.

"It should have worked," the Russian said, also very annoyed. "Maybe Zorro had the time to cover the scar, somehow. Or maybe he is dead. Or he is not in your useless list."

"Well, anybody had the time to cover the scar. Anybody but the De la Vegas, because you looked at them before the ban was in place," Mendoza said. "They are the only ones who didn't know beforehand you were going to check their arms."

"Shut up, Mendoza! Nobody is asking your opinion," the alcalde snapped, but he realized the dumb soldier was right.

"Yes, De la Vega... I still think he is the best candidate to be Zorro," Vladimir said. The other two men laughed at this idea.

"You keep saying that, but… No, that's impossible!" De Soto sneered.

"I want to have a look at him again. A closer look," Vladimir said, menacing.

"Suit yourself," De Soto said, pointing to the door, "but it will be a waste of time."

De Soto and Mendoza followed the Russian to the jail, quite curious.

"De la Vega! I need to have a look at your arm again. Come closer," Vladimir said.

"Why?" Diego asked, standing up. He was very confident this time because he had just applied another layer of concealer, and the scar was impossible to see. "Don't tell me that after all this effort you haven't found Zorro yet," he mocked, pretending to be concerned.

"No, we haven't. And I really think _you _are Zorro."

"_Me_?" Diego said, laughing and shaking his head, with his uncombed fringe falling over his blue eyes. "Me? Jumping from the roofs… handling a sword as he does… riding on Toronado? I wish I could do that!"

"I keep telling him that notion is ridiculous, but, he wants to see your arm again. Come closer to the bars this time, please," De Soto said, suppressing a chuckle at his mental picture of clumsy Diego jumping from the roofs. He would probably break his ankles, or dislocate his shoulder yet again by hitting the ground face first.

As he did before, Diego unbuttoned his shirt to uncover his left shoulder, coming very close to the bars this time. Vladimir looked at him, annoyed because the skin seemed undamaged.

"Just for comparison, this is the scar your boss left me, from the gunshot wound," Diego said, lifting his shirt up to show him his abdomen. It was a fresh scar below his ribs, healed but still quite red and angry looking. "My arm doesn't look like this, does it?"

The Russian turned around, upset by the mockery in Diego's voice, and left the jail and the garrison without uttering another word.

When De Soto and Mendoza were coming out from the cells they saw Felipe, who came in with the shaving tools, soap and foam for Diego.

"Felipe, Corporal Sepúlveda told me about this. You are right: that man needs some help, he looks very scruffy for his usual self," DeSoto said. "Do us all a favour and sort him out, please."

Sepúlveda opened the cell door to Felipe. While he applied the foam to shave Diego's beard, they talked to each other by sign language.

"_I have your clothes hidden under mine. The boots, the hat and the weapons are hidden on the roof," _Felipe signed.

"_Did you bring the darts?_" Diego signed.

"_Yes, they are there,_" Felipe signed, pointing to one of the pots.

"What are you doing?" the corporal said, suspicious with all that waving.

"You know Felipe is deaf. We communicate by sign language. He can't read my lips with all this shaving foam on my face," Diego said, casually, and he carried on signing, and whispering: _"I need to remove the concealer from the arm before I go, so the alcalde gets convinced once and for all that I am not Zorro."_

When Felipe had finished shaving Diego, Sepúlveda opened the cell door so the young man could come out.

"Corporal, I think you have a mice problem here. Look," Diego said, distracting the soldier so Felipe could throw a dart to his rear end unnoticed.

"What? Where?" the soldier said coming closer, scratching his bottom, which suddenly was a bit itchy. He fell to the ground shortly after, asleep.

"Well done Felipe," Diego said, dragging the soldier out of the cell, positioning his body on the chair as if he was having a siesta. "It looks like the paralyzing darts have become an invaluable weapon for Zorro to sneak in and out of jail," he said, chuckling. Then he removed his clothes, washed out the concealer paste from his arm, and changed into Zorro's black clothes, including the mask but not the hat, which was still on the roof.

"Lie down in my cot, and cover yourself well with the blanket. I'll close the cell door again, just in case any other soldiers show up. Pretend to be asleep if anybody calls you," Diego instructed. "It won't take long, hopefully."

Felipe nodded and took his place under the blanket while Zorro came out through the window to climb up onto the roof. He put the boots and the hat on and grabbed his weapons, heading for the opening at the alcalde's office ceiling.

ZZZ

"Thank God that Russian is gone. He gets on my nerves. And he is crazy. Can you imagine, Diego de la Vega as Zorro?" De Soto said, laughing while talking to Mendoza, who also laughed at the notion.

Zorro sneaked through the opening then, landing silently behind the alcalde.

"I am not Diego de la Vega!" he shouted. De Soto jumped away from him in fear.

"Zorro! What are you doing here?" the alcalde cried when he turned around to encounter Zorro's sword aiming at his throat. Mendoza placed his hand on his own sword's hilt, but he shrugged and put his hands up when Zorro let out a tutting sound.

"Alcalde! I am just making your life easier. I thought you were looking for me, but you could not find me," Zorro sneered. "And, of course, I am not that wimpy De la Vega, but I don't like to see him in jail just because he behaved like a man for once in his whole life. Let him go," he ordered, getting the sharp pointy end even closer to the alcalde. "Besides, I heard he is going to be a father; he should be with his wife."

"I was going to let him go. I only wanted to teach him a lesson because he is becoming quite arrogant since the duel," De Soto said, trying in vain to retreat from Zorro's sword.

"Do I have your word? Are you setting him free?"

"Yes! Yes! Get that sword away from me!" De Soto cried. He sighed and relaxed when Zorro lowered his weapon, which he held down with his left hand. It was a short relief, because De Soto tensed up again when Zorro leaned forward.

"By the way… look, Alcalde, that's what you were looking for," Zorro said, pulling down his black shirt to uncover his left shoulder, showing his scar.

"So you _do_ have a scar!" De Soto said, amazed, coming even closer to look at it. A black gloved fist found his jaw before he had the time to examine it better, when Zorro delivered an impressive right hook.

"Ouch! That hurt!" Zorro complained, shaking his right hand in the air several times while biting his lower lip. All that convalescence and the lack of action had really made him much weaker.

Mendoza chuckled looking at De Soto sprawled on the floor. When Zorro advanced his way with intention, he quickly lifted his hands in the air again.

"Not me, Zorro, please!" Mendoza cried, turning his face away from him, with eyes shut with fear.

"I am not going to hurt you, Sergeant, but you are in my way," Zorro said, moving the lancer gently aside to open the door, disappearing through it.

"Thank you, Zorro," Mendoza squeaked, sighing deeply, wiping off his forehead. He looked at the alcalde with some concern, but he could not suppress another amused chuckle before he kneeled down to help him.

ZZZ

Cristina was not having a good time. She felt nauseous all the time now, not only in the mornings, and she had been sick twice today. Pregnancy was not agreeing with her. People usually would say that pregnant women show a certain "glow" on their faces, but hers, if anything, was becoming a shade of green. Besides, other troubles —such as being in a state worried about Diego in jail, and the anxiety she felt about the Russian menace coming back from his grave— were not helping her frazzle.

"Are you sure I will feel better in a few weeks?" she asked her mother. "I don't think I can carry on like this for several months."

"Yes, you'll be fine, dear. Something similar happened to me."

Doña María Luisa knew of other women who stayed like that for the whole of their pregnancies, but she didn't want to alarm her daughter even more with that grim possibility.

"If only Diego could be here… I missed him," Cristina said, sobbing. When she saw her mother's compassionate look, she wiped away the tears, deeply ashamed of her own frailty.

"The Governor in Monterey will get Alejandro's letter and Diego will be out of jail soon. Don't worry, dear." Doña María Luisa squeezed her daughter's hand gently.

"Thank you," Cristina whispered.

ZZZ

"Gosh, that felt so good, Felipe," Diego said while changing back into his clothes, after applying another few layers of concealer on his scar. He was having trouble buttoning up his shirt. "But my hand hurts now. I hope I didn't break it. I left all the stuff on the roof again. Take it only if you can do it safely; otherwise leave it there for later."

Felipe nodded, coming out of the cell with the shaving tools.

"One more thing," Diego said. "Hit me with one of the darts, so they will find me asleep here. That will teach me what my victims feel when I shoot them. Around here, that will do" he said, pointing to his chest.

Felipe took one of the darts carefully, and blew it towards Diego through the little pipe.

"I hardly felt it. But it is a bit tingly now," Diego said, sitting down on the floor, in the middle of the cell. "Oh, yes, it is very fast. I feel so weak now… I don't think I—"

Diego stopped talking, and then slumped to the ground shortly after, asleep. Felipe smiled at the sight of his mentor sprawled on the cell's floor, snoring softly. He closed the door, hanging the key back on the wall, and came out through the back door. Nobody was around, so he carefully climbed on the roof as he had done before, hid the items back in a blanket, which he placed again over his pinto's saddle, and headed back to the Hacienda de la Vega.

ZZZ

De Soto moved his nose away from the smelling salts, moaning. Confused, with his eyes still shut, he waved his hands wildly, slapping Mendoza's face.

"Ouch!" the Sergeant complained, backing off. He dropped the alcalde's head from his lap back to the floor, with a loud thud.

"Zorro!" the alcalde cried, opening his eyes, suddenly aware of the situation. "Where is he?"

"He is gone, mi Alcalde."

De Soto touched gently his jaw, which was turning purple already, afraid it could be fractured.

"He was really here, I didn't dream this. That son of a… And he really _has_ a scar! Where is he hiding? Where does he live?!" he ranted, enraged. Helped by Mendoza, he stood up and, quite unsteadily, headed for the jail. The first thing he saw, on entering, was corporal Sepúlveda asleep in his chair. Immensely cross, he shook the corporal by his shoulder.

"Sepúlveda! Wake up! You are on duty, for Christ sake! No time for a siesta!"

The soldier's body, out of balance now, fell on the floor like a rag doll, not disturbed in his sleep in the slightest.

"Oh, no. It's the damn darts again!" De Soto cursed, clenching his fists.

"Don Diego seems to be asleep too," Mendoza pointed out, looking at his cell.

"Why would Zorro get Diego unconscious? It doesn't make sense. He could have set him free instead, if that was his purpose."

"I don't know, mi Alcalde. Maybe he hit Don Diego by accident, but Sepúlveda here is not waking up with the salts," Mendoza said, moving the little bottle under the corporal's nose, without a reaction. He also tried to revive Diego then, with the same, negative result.

"Well, it looks like whatever drug Zorro uses, won't let them wake up so easily. That… manipulative… meddler… rotten scoundrel!" the alcalde shouted, throwing a tantrum on his way back to the office, kicking the walls along the way.

ZZZZZ


	3. Chapter 3 - The Prize

**Chapter 24 – The Prize**

Cristina was delighted when Diego came back home that evening. He was extremely pleased to finally be home too, after successfully eluding to be exposed as Zorro. He was also greatly relieved to be able to support his wife while she was having trouble with her pregnancy. To keep her calmed and relaxed, and minimize the chances of a miscarriage, he promised he would not go out as Zorro while the Russian was around, although he knew that would be a difficult promise to keep, because Zorro was needed quite often thanks to the alcalde's wicked ways.

For the next few weeks the Russian kept busy looking for Zorro, who was busy as well avoiding him at all costs. Despite his promise to Cristina, Diego still went out as Zorro from time to time because Toronado needed the fresh air and exercise. He had engaged in minor conflicts without her knowledge, always steering clear of the pueblo. A couple of times he got too close to the Russian, but he had managed to escape without problems.

Weeks turned quickly into months, and Vladimir's frustration slowly built up to reach epic proportions. At this point, he could resort to anything to hunt Zorro down and move on with his life.

"Alcalde, you must think of a way to get Zorro out in the open," Vladimir said, talking to De Soto at his office. "He has been avoiding any compromising situations for too long. He is not chasing bandits or helping the peasants as he used to do, the coward. I have seen him only twice and never close enough to get him. He always vanishes into thin air. Think of a trap, something he could not refuse to get involved with, even if he knows it is a trick to capture him. Something so outrageous that can make him come to the pueblo. I can't live in this hole of a place for ever, waiting for a chance to do _your_ job."

"What do you want me to do? Flog everybody in the pueblo, even women and children?" De Soto said, uncomfortable with the Russian's demands.

"Maybe, if that gets him here."

"You are crazy. I can't do that," De Soto said. No, he could not do that. That kind of abuse would be reported immediately to Monterey, and he was still embarrassed with the warning he received after he got Diego de la Vega in jail. Don Alejandro was very well connected, and his friends were powerful. Besides, De Soto wasn't such a heartless maniac as the German had been.

"Maybe not everybody, then. Think of something. It could be a lottery, for example. Get a few random names and menace to flog them unless Zorro gives himself up, or someone gives us a clue of his identity."

"A lottery. And the winner gets… flogged," De Soto mused, stroking his beard slowly. "Interesting idea, but, too risky. I can't flog innocent people like that."

"Someone out there is not innocent. Someone out there knows who Zorro is, and has been helping him all along. They are not "innocent people". They support Zorro; they help him; they cheer him up whenever he shows his dastard, masked face. Someone has to talk, by any means. As soon as possible," the Russian said, impatient, slamming the door behind him when he stepped out of the office.

ZZZ

"Can you feel it?" Cristina said.

"No, I can't. Where?" Diego said with his hands in light contact with her distended abdomen. Cristina was sitting in bed surrounded by his strong arms and legs, with her back resting on his stomach. She took his hands and gently placed them on the right place.

"There."

Her mother was right. Cristina felt better after the first three difficult months, and she had finally learned to enjoy her pregnancy. Her favourite pastime now was looking at her abdomen, mesmerized at the random and involuntary movement of her distended belly when the baby pushed the boundaries in any direction. Right then, under Diego's hands, the baby kicked hard, shaking it.

"Yes, I felt that! That was a big one!" he said, excited. "Does it hurt?"

She smiled, shaking her head.

"No, but it is a very odd sensation. She keeps me awake sometimes."

"_She_?"

"Yes, I think she is a girl."

"How do you know?"

"I don't, it's just a feeling. But I am so convinced I even have a name for her."

"Do you? What name?"

"Sofía. Do you like it?" Cristina said, hopeful.

"Yes, I like it. _Sofía_. It sounds nice. But what happens if it is a baby boy?"

"_She_ is not a boy. But if he is, then you can choose his name. What name would you pick?"

"Alejandro. My father would like that," Diego said with a dreamy voice, still caressing Cristina's abdomen.

"All right. Alejandro. But I am telling you, your father will have to wait. This time, Sofía _Alejandra_ will have to do."

ZZZ

Diego was at the newspaper office, printing the new issue of The Guardian. When he had finished, he headed to the tavern for a cool drink. As usual, like every time he came through that door, he briefly thought about Victoria, and wondered about her new life in Monterey. The De la Vegas had received a letter a month ago from her, letting them know she had given birth to a healthy baby boy. He was premature, but she assured them that everything was fine. The baby was thriving, she had recovered nicely, and she was delighted to invite them to visit whenever they could travel north that way. Diego had answered congratulating the happy parents, but had politely declined the invitation to visit at least until Cristina gave birth, and probably a few months after that.

On entering the tavern, he saw Vladimir sitting at a table at the back. Following the advice of the old saying, over the last few months he had tried hard to keep his enemy as close as possible, engaging in polite conversation with him whenever he could. The Russian was relentlessly drinking glass after glass of _tinto_ wine, and the bottle in front of him was nearly empty. Surprising Pilar with his unusual choice of beverage, Diego ordered an expensive bottle of wine and an empty glass at the counter, and walked with them to Vladimir's table.

"Good afternoon," he saluted. "How are you? Can I sit down for a drink?"

"Suit yourself," the Russian said, indifferent, pointing to the chair at the other side of the table. Diego sat down, and slowly filled up both glasses.

"Any luck in your search for Zorro?" Diego said casually. The Russian looked at him with glassy, drunken eyes, and shook his head.

"No. That coward has been avoiding me like the pest," Vladimir said. His eyes looked down to the bottle again, and remained fixed on it for a while, as if the solution to his problems lay inside, swimming in the dark liquid. Then, his tired eyes looked back at Diego. "You know, I still think you are the only one in the entire pueblo who fits the description for Zorro," he said, getting more relaxed to talk than ever before with all that wine running through his veins.

"I am really flattered that you consider me a suitable candidate to be Zorro. However, as the alcalde said before, that is absurd. I am not a man of action, and I don't have the time to run around on that crazy black horse doing stunts. If that was the case, I would not have time for my books."

"And what a _tragedy_ that would be," Don Francisco joked, slapping Diego's shoulder. He had just caught Diego's last words when he approached his table, and sat down beside him, in front of the Russian.

"Good afternoon, señor. Any luck in you search for Zorro?" he asked, politely, using the exact same words as his son in law, but with an obvious hint of mockery in his voice. "Do you know where he hides?"

"Ask him," Vladimir said while pointing with his glass at Diego. "I think he knows perfectly well."

The Cossack gulped down the wine in his glass. Then, with an unsteady hand, he reached for the bottle to fill it up again, while Don Francisco looked at Diego with his eyebrows raised.

"Do you?"

"No, not really. Our friend here thinks I may be Zorro, because I am tall, and have dark hair like him, and—." He was interrupted by his father in law's hearty laugh.

"_You_? Zorro? Don't be ridiculous, Diego."

"Yes, Don Francisco, thank you for your trust in my abilities," he replied, pretending to be offended, something that was not so difficult to do. "That is precisely what I was saying. It is ridiculous to think I may be Zorro."

"Or so you say." The Russian showed a shifty smile, lifted his glass again and gulped the content down even faster than before. "I have to go. I'll see you around," he said, standing up not quite vertically, and he walked unsteadily to the door.

"What was all that about, Diego? Is he serious? Do you know who Zorro is?" Don Francisco said. Diego shrugged his shoulders, with an innocent expression on his face.

"Of course I don't. He is drunk," he said, as if that would explain anything.

ZZZ

"People of Los Angeles," De Soto shouted from a stand erected in the middle of the plaza, addressing the crowd. "In a new attempt to capture the outlaw criminal who named himself _El Zorro_, I have been allowed to take exceptional measures."

"What measures?" Don Francisco said from the tavern door. Bans had been placed two days ago to advice the citizens of Los Angeles to attend an important announcement by the alcalde, and most people were there, waiting expectantly for the bad news. Because nothing good could come from it; they were sure of that.

"I have implemented a lottery system. The names of all the male citizens in the territory over fifteen years old have been included for this prize draw," he said, pointing to the urn at a table at his feet, guarded by Sergeant Mendoza, who smiled warmly at the crowd. Surprised, the people at the plaza rumoured loudly, quite pleased to know there was a chance to win something.

"What is the prize, Alcalde?" Don Alejandro asked. He was watching the unfolding scene form the tavern door also, beside his friend, with his arms tightly crossed over his chest, unconvinced the alcalde would give anything valuable away for free.

"The prize will be…" De Soto hesitated and he looked at Vladimir, who encouraged him with a nod. "… ten lashes from my whip, unless someone gives me the name of the person behind Zorro's mask."

An uproar of indignation rose over the crowd. Sergeant Mendoza stopped smiling and looked at the alcalde, incredulous. He genuinely thought he was about to give away a good prize to some fortunate man. He looked at the urn, which was full of small folded pieces of paper, and then back to the alcalde.

"_Pero, mi Alcalde_, you cannot do that…" he started, but his words were lost in the clamour of the crowd at the plaza.

"Lancers, get your muskets ready!" the alcalde shouted.

The soldiers aimed at the crowd, hesitantly, but they followed orders nonetheless. The people at the crowd shouted at them, enraged, but slowly backed away a short distance.

"Mendoza, proceed. Take a paper from the urn and read the name out loud."

The Sergeant did as instructed, and took a paper from the urn. With shaky hands, he unfolded the little piece and exclaimed: "Madre de Dios!"

"Come on, Sergeant, read the name out loud," De Soto barked.

A heavy silence fell on the plaza when everybody stood still to hear the unfortunate name. Everybody but the Russian, who had tampered with the papers and knew exactly what the lancer was about to say. He was the only person not looking at Mendoza. His eyes were fixed on Diego.

Sergeant Mendoza swallowed hard, and said with a tiny voice: "Felipe de la Vega."

ZZZZZ


	4. Chapter 4 - A Big Blow

**Chapter 25 – A Big Blow**

Diego woke up at home, in his bed, with a killer headache. For a moment, he didn't know why he was there, or why his head felt like about to explode. Then, he remembered the terrible events at the plaza. He sat up quickly and tried to get out of bed, but he was restrained by Don Francisco.

"Diego, calm down. Lie down, please," he said, gently pushing his son in law back on the pillows.

"Felipe. Where is Felipe? What happened?"

The room was spinning around him now, and his cranium was throbbing, hurting as if someone was hitting his head repeatedly with a mallet. He felt so dizzy that he retched with a sudden bout of nausea, and Don Francisco rushed to place a bowl close to his mouth to collect the vomit. Diego kept being sick, fearing his head was definitely going to burst with the effort, the pain unbearable. When he had finished, he rested back on the pillows, panting. He closed his eyes, and despite the beating headache he tried to recall the full dreadful episode at the plaza.

ZZZ

After Mendoza said the name on the paper, chaos followed. The alcalde looked around, hesitant, like a lost child.

"_Mierda,"_ he muttered, but nobody heard him amid such a loud cacophony of infuriated voices. _Why it had to be a blooming De la Vega? Why not somebody else? _he thought, regretting to have included those names in the draw.

"He is a deaf-mute! And he is only a child!" Don Alejandro shouted over the rest of the cries of the angry mob. He advanced through the multitude pushing people carelessly away, like a raging bull, followed by Don Francisco. Diego stayed behind, his hands at Felipe's shoulders, protecting the bewildered young man.

"How dare you?!" the old don said when he was close to the stand, menacing the alcalde with his fist held high. As an answer, De Soto got his pistols out, and fired one into the air, over the crowd. With the loud bang, everybody in the plaza stood still and quiet for a moment.

"Calm down! Or the next time I'll fire at you!" he menaced, aiming randomly at the crowd, moving his pistol in a wide arch until it rested in front of him, pointing at Don Alejandro's chest. "There is no need for this to happen. Zorro, surrender and end this now!"

The now silent people at the crowd looked around, waiting for something, for someone to speak up.

Felipe shook his head, and Diego squeezed his shoulders, whispering: "_I won't let this to happen_."

"Zorro? Where are you?" the alcalde said.

"What happens if Zorro is not here? He can't give himself up if he is not here," said someone at the crowd.

"In that case, if anybody knows anything, if anybody knows Zorro's identity or any other information, speak now to spare this young man from flogging!" De Soto cried while scanning the crowd. Nobody moved, so he ordered the soldiers to seize the young De la Vega.

Felipe sensed the hesitation in his mentor when Diego loosened the grip over his shoulders. He stepped forward and turned to face him, shaking his head with wild, frightened eyes. Everybody thought he was panicking, asking Diego to save him, and nobody realized his true message was: _"Don't give yourself up!" _

Diego swallowed hard. He didn't know what to do. His eyes darted around the crowd, from the approaching soldiers to Felipe's face. He could not surrender, not now, not like that. However, he could not allow Felipe to suffer for his loyalty, either. But his brain had stopped working; he could not think of a solution, and he didn't have much time.

The reluctant lancers grabbed Felipe, who continued to look at Diego while shaking his head, and the crowd went mad again, rebuking the soldiers, pushing and hitting them while they dragged Felipe to the stand. Diego stood still, immobile, paralyzed on the spot with his eyes fixed on Felipe's, which clearly showed him the message: _"please, don't do anything."_

When they reached the stand, the alcalde ordered the soldiers to tie Felipe's hands to the logs supporting it. While Felipe didn't offer any resistance and stoically let them get on with their task, Don Alejandro and Don Francisco attacked the soldiers.

"Leave the boy alone!" Don Alejandro cried, punching one of the lancers in the face, while Don Francisco tried to pushed away the other one, wrestling with him, both of them struggling holding onto the soldier's musket.

"Stop it! Stop or I'll fire!" De Soto yelled from the stand, aiming at Don Alejandro, unconvinced of his own words and his will to see them through.

Another soldier stepped in, hitting Don Alejandro's jaw, and the old don fell heavily to the ground. That made Diego snap out of his trance, and he lunged forward running to the stand to deliver a powerful blow to that same soldier, knocking him unconscious. Vladimir was ready, waiting for Diego's reaction, and quickly hit Don Francisco's lumbar area with his musket butt. The tall caballero cried out in pain and let go of the soldier's musket, falling to the ground next to his old friend. With an expert fast move, the Russian carried on forward and drove his musket into Diego's abdomen, below his sternum, with an extraordinary force. Diego bent down with the pain, unable to breathe, even less to complain.

"Tie him up!" Vladimir ordered to the soldiers next to Felipe. When they had finished, he produced a long whip and approached Felipe to tear off his shirt.

"Do you have anything to say?" he asked the frightened boy, who still managed to bravely shake his head. "No, I didn't think so. After all, you are mute, aren't you?" the Cossack said, laughing.

Vladimir stepped back while the people at the plaza were still shouting, barely contained by the nervous lancers who pointed their muskets at them. He slowly unrolled his whip, and turned slightly to look at Diego, who was still crouched down, with a hand and a knee on the ground, trying to get some air into his lungs. With his most hideous smile, the Russian lashed the whip for the first time. The crowd gasped, disbelieving _that_ was actually happening. An innocent teenager was being flogged right in front of them, and Zorro was nowhere to be seen.

With the unexpected sharp pain, Felipe's body tensed and jolted, and he let out a whinny moan. Initially, he was determined not to let out any kind of sound, but now he was not so sure on how he was going to manage that at all. When the second whiplash fell on his back, he involuntarily cried out loud.

Vladimir tossed the whip to the ground and approached Diego with his musket by his side.

"I believe you may have something to say, Don Diego?"

He looked down at him expectantly, hoping he could finally make him crack, but Diego held his gaze with a torrent of hatred spilling out from his blue eyes, without uttering a word. He looked proudly at Felipe, and then back up at the Russian, and slowly nodded.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Go to hell," Diego muttered.

Exasperated, Vladimir lifted his musket and hit the side of Diego's head with a mighty blow, and darkness fell over him so quickly he didn't even hear his father's impotent cry.

"NOOOOOOO!"

ZZZ

"Don't move, Diego. Doctor Hernández said your skull is fractured," Don Francisco said, holding him down again. "You had a large gash right to the bone in there. You were bleeding gallons through it. He has stitched that up and it is not bleeding anymore. Gosh, Diego, we all thought the damned Russian had killed you with that blow."

"How is Felipe? Is he all right?" Diego said, agitated, letting his painful head down onto the soft pillow.

"Yes, he is all right. The doctor is with him right now. We are all very impressed on how brave he has been through the whole thing."

"How… how…" Diego hesitated. He swallowed and tried again, with a cracked voice, but still could not finish the question. "How many…?"

"How many what?" Don Francisco asked. Then he understood. "How many lashes? Five, he received five. The alcalde made the crazy Russian stop when nobody was coming forward with any information about Zorro. I don't know when that mad man is going to finally realize we don't know who Zorro is, because our hero has been so clever to keep his identity a secret."

_Not so clever as you think, or I wouldn't be lying here with a fractured skull, would I?_ Diego thought.

"I'll let the others know you are awake."

"Where's Cristina?"

"She has been sitting by your side all this time, but her back was hurting on that chair, so she left a little while ago to lie down in bed."

Diego tried to sit up one more time, but Don Francisco pushed him down again.

"Don't try to stand, Diego. Believe me. You are in a bad shape. Don't move. Don't make things worse. Stand still, please. Rest now, I'll be back in a moment."

ZZZ

Doctor Hernández finished cleaning Felipe's wounds. The last three lashes had been so vicious they were very deep, even requiring some stitches to close the open skin and bare subcutaneous tissues and muscles. In some places, he could even see the bone, were the whip had sunk to expose the spine and the ribs. He had administered a large dose of laudanum to the teenager for the pain, which in no way could be enough to numb it completely. He was very impressed on how little Felipe was complaining. The youngster was clenching his fists and gritting his teeth with determination every time the doctor dug the needle in the flesh to place the stitches.

"We are done now," the doctor said, tapping gently an undamaged area of skin at Felipe's shoulder. "Try to relax and rest now, young man. I wish all my patients were as brave as you have been."

Don Alejandro, who was silently watching the scene from behind the doctor, proudly nodded with tears spilling from his eyes.

"You have done so well, Felipe. I am so proud of you. You are a true De la Vega," Don Alejandro said, with his voice trembling by the emotion.

"Diego is awake," Don Francisco announced, coming into the room. "How is he?" he asked, nodding towards Felipe.

"He'll be fine," doctor Hernández said. "I had to stitch some of the wounds up because they were too deep. But he is a very strong and brave young man, and he'll be up and about in no time at all. Let's go and check on your son now, Don Alejandro."

When they left the room, leaving Felipe on his own to rest, he buried his face on the pillow and he cried a river all over it, sobbing as silently as he could. The fresh wounds stung so much they even pulsated with every heartbeat, and it would be a miracle if he could manage to get any sleep at all that night. Besides, he was too worried about his adoptive father to even try to sleep. From the distance, he had heard the frightening cracking noise his skull had done. Tied to the posts, he could not look back in that direction, and he had to endure three more whiplashes while listening to Don Alejandro's wailing, thinking Diego was dead, until the alcalde put a stop to the flogging.

ZZZ

"Diego, you are awake. Thank God. I thought I had lost you for good, again. It is another miracle," Don Alejandro said, squeezing Diego's hand. He looked at his son with great devotion and worry in his tired eyes, concerned by the bulky bandage covering Diego's head, and by the large amount of dry blood that was plastering his clothes.

"How's Felipe?" Diego said, squeezing back his father's hand as well. He didn't like how much older his father looked all of a sudden, with dark circles under his eyes, and displaying a dark haematoma on his jaw.

"He is all right. He has been so brave. I am so proud of him. Of both of you."

Diego smiled weakly. It was a rare occasion to hear his father saying he was proud of him. Although, he would not be so proud if he knew the truth, that he had allowed that to happen and he was responsible. He closed his eyes firmly to avoid spilling any of the tears that suddenly were fighting his way out. His father and everybody else around him thought his gesture was due to the pain.

"Rest now, my son. Don't worry, everything will be fine."

Doctor Hernández urged everybody out so he could examine Diego alone. He removed the bandage carefully and looked at the wound. It had stopped bleeding. The portion of skull fractured had not displaced; it wasn't sinking down or protruding out. Satisfied, he replaced the bandage, and then he spoke, slowly, apologizing.

"Diego, down at the plaza… I nearly opened my mouth. I could not bear to see that boy being savagely hurt like that. You were right trying to keep your identity a secret. It was very difficult for me not to speak up."

"Thank you, doctor. You should not have been forced into that position, at all. You already got hurt before while protecting my identity."

"When that crazy Russian hit you with the musket... That noise… I'll never forget that horrible cracking noise in my life. As your father said, it is sort of a miracle you are still alive, Diego. Your guardian angel really loves you. I thought Vladimir had killed you instantly with that blow. You were not breathing or responding at all for a couple of minutes, and that wound was spilling blood like a waterfall, while behind us that maniac kept flogging Felipe mercilessly. I was about to shout that you were Zorro, to make him stop, when you started breathing again. I am so sorry. You would be definitely dead by now if I had done that."

"Don't worry doctor. It is not your fault. It is only mine."

"Why yours, Diego? Please, don't blame yourself for this. Nothing that you may have done could have prevented this."

"I could have surrender to the alcalde."

"Surrendering was not an option. Even Felipe knew that. He begged you not to give yourself up. He understood a bit of pain was a small price to pay to keep Zorro safe, let alone keeping _you_ safe. What a brave young man you have for a son."

Diego nodded, and the small range of movement sent a new wave of pain through his throbbing head. He retched again, but managed to avoid being sick because he couldn't bear to feel that massively intense pain inside his head again. Doctor Hernández gave him a glass of bark infusion that was resting on the night table.

"Here. As usual, drink lots of bark infusion. We need to reduce the inflammation at the fracture site. And, please, take some laudanum this time. No excuses."

"Yes, sir," Diego said, compliant, drinking most of the bitter liquid.

ZZZ

"Now, tell me: what have you achieved today?" De Soto asked, but Vladimir didn't answer. "I'll tell you what. Nothing. You have achieved _nothing_. We still don't know who Zorro is, and now I am going to get in trouble with the De la Vegas and their connections in Monterey, again. You nearly killed Diego, for Christ sake! He may still die. What is it with you people trying to kill him all the time?"

"You know what I think," the Russian said, calmly.

"What? That he is Zorro? Please, don't start with that nonsense again. You checked his arm several times, and he hasn't got that scar. I saw Zorro's scar when he came into my office. It is huge. No way can anyone get confused between those two arms."

"Yes, but I still think there are too many angles to this. I still think that—"

"Well, stop thinking then!" the alcalde interrupted, furious, losing his temper. "Or if you must, please think of a way to justify that you nearly killed an innocent man, and that you flogged a deaf-mute teenager who would have not been able to tell you anything even if he wanted to!"

Vladimir looked at him with cold, menacing eyes.

"Don't yell at me, or you'll regret it."

De Soto backed off then, shrinking in fear.

"Say what you want, but I still think he is the only one who can be Zorro. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but I know it. The way he looked at me, the way he talked to me at the plaza… Diego De la Vega would not dare to do that. That's why you are all so mistaken with his ways; he is fooling everyone."

De Soto had to agree that such a _"go to hell"_ was way out of character for Diego de la Vega, but, after all, the circumstances were exceptional, too: the Russian was flogging his adoptive son. Besides, since the duel with the German, his old school mate had shown a new determination and strength that De Soto hadn't seen before, as if the experience had made him braver somehow.

"Stop the speculations and the wild accusations, and find Zorro once and for all. I don't want any more mishaps. If you don't find him over the next three months, I will ask you to leave the territory," De Soto said, finding courage himself where he didn't know he had it.

ZZZ

"Diego, are you awake?" said a sweet voice close to his ear. He opened his eyes to find an angel hovering over him.

"Cristina. How are you?" he asked, looking worried. She leaned forward and kissed his lips gently.

"I am fine, don't worry. It is _you_ who you should be worried about. I thought I had lost you, again."

"I am a tough cookie, I guess," he said, holding her hand.

"Don't joke about this, please. I am serious. They all thought you were dead. I was shocked when they got you here all covered in blood. By the way, we need to change your cloths. The doctor didn't let us before, to minimize the movement of your head after the journey here."

She got on with the task of washing his blood stained face and neck, and help him to remove the now brownish red and stiff white shirt, and replace it with a clean night gown.

"I am so glad I wasn't there to see it happening. They all agree it was awful, especially the sound."

"It is my fault. I shouldn't have antagonized him."

"What happened? What did you say?"

"Ah… not much… just _"go to hell"_, and he smashed my head. He is crazy, but maybe he is also much more perceptive and clever than anybody else, because he is convinced that I am Zorro, no matter what. But, in a way, I am glad he spared me the agony to see poor brave Felipe receiving any more lashes."

"Arghhhh…" she growled, angry. "If I wasn't pregnant, I would let him know a few things… That bastard!"

"No, if you weren't pregnant you'd stay away from him as far as you could. However, I am glad you are pregnant," he said with a broad smile.

She leaned forward and kissed him again, more passionately this time, and he embraced her, caressing her back. For a moment, that made him forget about the unbearable throbbing pain in his head, but when they parted, with his heart rate greatly increased, he closed his eyes and moaned, alarming Cristina.

"What's wrong? Are you all right? What can I give you?"

"It's my head," he whispered. "It really aches and feels like if that blooming Russian is hitting it constantly with every heartbeat. Give me some more of that bark infusion, please. It seems to work to ease the pain a little."

She served him another glass, helping him to lift his head to drink.

"Rest now, _mi amor_. I won't kiss you again until you recover."

"You, cruel woman," he complained, with his eyes closed and a hint of a smile.

"I'll come back later. I am going to check on Felipe."

"Tell him I am very proud of him and that I am sorry I couldn't protect him," he said, with his eyes still closed, trying to get comfortable and ride the constant waves of pain. Suddenly, he opened them back again when Cristina was leaving, looking anxious.

"Wait. I just realized. Because Felipe is also injured this time, nobody is going to take care of Toronado now. Can you please look after him until we recover?"

"I can take care of him, don't worry."

"Ask the good doctor to give you a hand, if you need it. Please, don't struggle on your own."

"All right, don't worry. I'll just make sure Toronado has enough food and water for now, and I'll get the doctor to help me later with the mucking out when he comes back to check on you. Rest now, please."

ZZZ

That night, Vladimir was outside the hacienda De la Vega, watching the lights inside the house from the distance. Through the windows, he could see people moving about between the rooms, and he spotted Cristina and Don Alejandro. His Don Cossack horse neighed softly, shaking his head, complaining for the lack of activity because they had been still in that spot for a while now.

"Sssshhh," Vladimir said, tapping gently the horse's neck. "We are going now."

He had been considering the idea of coming into the house to finish Diego off by cutting his throat in silence, in the dark. However, he wanted to have a definitive proof of his suspicions before he would do that. Now, the fact that Diego had survived that tremendous blow, confirmed that he was an extraordinary man. He had also survived the encounter with the German, and Vladimir was puzzled why nobody else could see there was more about Diego de la Vega than met the eye. In the end, he shook his head, spat to the ground, and spurred his horse to return to the pueblo.

ZZZ

"I doubt we're going to get him charged with assault, Father," Diego said the day after the attack.

"Why not? He attacked you, didn't he? And he nearly killed you."

Don Alejandro had been ranting about this for nearly half an hour, increasing Diego's headache to a new level.

"He may say he was following orders from the alcalde. After all, we assaulted the lancers, didn't we? The three of us," he said, involving Don Francisco, who was also present in the room.

"What are you suggesting, Diego? That we don't complain about this abuse?" Don Francisco said.

"Not at all. But probably it won't make any difference, that's all. But it's worth a try, if you want to." He repositioned his pillows, trying to get more comfortable, but it was an impossible task. "Now, you can go away and let me rest, please. All these empty words are getting nowhere, other than reverberating inside my head. The Russian didn't, but you are really killing me now," he joked.

"All right, Diego. Rest now, we'll come back later," said his father. When they were about to leave, Felipe appeared at the door.

"Felipe, are you all right? You should be in bed, my boy, you look very pale," Don Alejandro said, worried. Felipe signed he wanted to see Diego. "All right, but make it quick. He just said we are killing him with our tirade. I'll wait for you outside to take you back to your room."

"Felipe, how are you? I am so sorry about what happened. I didn't know what to do," Diego said when they were left alone. "Please, forgive me."

_"There is nothing to forgive. You couldn't do anything,"_ Felipe signed. _"Are you all right? I am very worried about you. At the plaza, I thought you were dead."_

"That's what everybody keeps saying. Don't worry. I'll be fine when this horrible throbbing pain eases a little. What about you? Did you manage to rest last night? I should imagine your wounds hurt terribly too."

Felipe nodded, but made the sign meant for _"I am all right."_

"I am so proud of you, Felipe."

_"I am going now. I have to take care of Toronado,"_ he signed.

"No. Go back to bed, please. Cristina will take care of him. Thank you."

When his adoptive son left, Diego smiled, proudly. Even if he was so badly injured himself, Felipe was still trying to take care of everything.

ZZZZZ


	5. Chapter 5 - Tragedy

**Chapter 26 – Tragedy**

During the next few weeks nobody spotted Zorro. The people of Los Angeles thought he was a coward, afraid of the Russian to the point of not showing up, not even to save an innocent boy from flogging. With his actions, Vladimir had managed to do what Ramón and De Soto hadn't before: to antagonize the villagers against Zorro.

Felipe's wounds healed quite quickly, and two weeks after the ordeal he was back to normal. Diego took much longer to recover, but after two months his skull had fused back together and he was eager to reinstate Zorro's status as a hero. Encouraged by the lack of action from the masked outlaw, the alcalde had implemented some new outrageous taxes that most peasants were unable to pay; something De Soto would not had dared to do otherwise, when Zorro was a constant presence in the pueblo.

"Diego, you don't have to do anything about it. That's vanity what you have," Cristina said, lashing out. "Be happy you are alive and that blow didn't cause any secondary ill effects. We are all amazed you are back to normal so quickly without permanent impairment. Count your blessings and let them be. They'll survive without Zorro. They did before."

"Vanity? Not at all. But I don't like people being disappointed. I don't like them losing hope. You haven't been at the tavern for a long time. It is quite upsetting to hear them talk about Zorro now. They are waiting for him to do something, anything. They want to believe, but they are giving up."

"This is your chance to give Zorro up and have a normal life, Diego. You have suffered enough. Let him go. Please."

"I can't. Zorro stands for something. For Justice, Freedom, Equality… Until they are universal, at least in los Angeles, his mission goes on."

"How many more times do you have to be at Heaven's door, Diego?"

"Do I have to remind you that the last two episodes happened to Diego, not Zorro?"

"If you don't give up, then I will," she said, determined.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know. I wish I knew," she said, leaving the room, slamming the door. Diego hesitated between following her or heading to the fireplace. He chose the second option.

ZZZ

"Alcalde, long time no see," Zorro said after sneaking into the alcalde's office undetected one more time. It was late in the evening, already dark, and he had the intention to quickly get into the office; frighten De Soto just enough to get him to drop the new taxes; and get out of there before the Russian would notice he was around. While avoiding the soldiers outside, he had checked the office from the window with a small mirror, and he believed the alcalde was alone in the room.

"Zorro! What are you doing here, _coward_?" said the alcalde, who could not refrain himself from using the word in everybody's mouth when they referred to Zorro lately.

"Coward? Not at all, alcalde. Here I am. I am sorry if I had disappointed you, but as you know, I have a _secret_ real life I have to attend to as well. I have been away, and I'm afraid it looks like for too long."

"I told you he would come. It was worth the wait," the alcalde said with a devious smile.

Zorro looked around, nervous, but he couldn't see anybody else in the room. Suddenly, the Russian appeared from behind a secret panel on the wall.

Zorro cursed to himself, upset because he had carelessly fallen for it so easily. He hadn't realized the room was a bit shorter now, and the plaster on that wall looked fresh.

"Zorro. At last," the Russian said, bowing a little, glad to be out of the confined space of the newly created secret room. He was convinced the time had come to unmask his nemesis, Diego de la Vega, and that he would not escape alive again. "How do you want to die? By my gun, my sword, or would you prefer I use the _nagaika_ to smash you into pieces?"

"So many choices, I don't know what to say. Let me think…" he said, getting a bit closer to the alcalde, without trying to reach any of his own weapons yet.

"Neither!" he shouted, jumping forward, pushing the alcalde against the Russian, who got crushed between De Soto and the wall. Before the Russian or the alcalde could get their guns ready, Zorro carry on forward and jumped through the window to escape, bending his arms over his face to protect it from the shattered glass. He rolled on the ground outside and stood up quickly to attack the surprised lancer who was guarding the office door. He punched the lancer, who fell to the ground semiconscious, grabbed his musket and placed it as a bar across the door to prevent the Russian getting out of the alcalde's office. It was a temporary measure, of course, which would last as much time as the enraged Cossack would need to ram the door.

Zorro whistled to Toronado, who appeared promptly from behind a building. On his way there, Zorro passed close to the Russian's horse, and untied it from the rail. He knew that to have any real chances of escaping, he had to take that horse with him. Still holding the reins, he jumped on Toronado and he spurred the mighty stallion to a canter towards the pueblo's entrance. The Don horse followed reluctantly, but shortly after they left the pueblo, when Toronado increased the pace to a gallop, the Cossack horse stopped abruptly, pulling hard from Zorro's shoulder. He nearly fell off Toronado, and to prevent this to happen, he let go of the reins. The Cossack horse ran away back to the pueblo, back to his master. Frustrated, Zorro encouraged the black stallion to carry on, as fast as he could.

ZZZ

That evening Cristina was fuming. Apparently, Diego had totally ignored her words of wisdom and had gone out as Zorro. She understood the importance of his quest for Justice, but she was resenting the passive attitude of the Angeleños, who were so used to have Zorro saving the day, they had become unable to fend for themselves. She hated it. It was too much to ask somebody to put his life on hold, to risk his life every day because they could not bother to grow a back bone. And, on top of that, they dared to call _him_ a coward. She wished her pregnancy could be over soon and she could be back to normal to let the Italian teach the villagers a thing or two about loyalty and, especially, self-preservation.

ZZZ

Toronado was struggling. He had not been exercised properly for a long time, since Zorro had been injured at the ravine, many months ago. He hardly ever left the cave now, and he had put weight on. The Cossack horse was in top form, and it was getting dangerously closer, galloping faster and faster without signs of getting tired. Toronado's only advantages were that he knew the terrain so well, and that in the moonless dark night, horse and rider were quite difficult to spot in the distance.

Zorro didn't like the laboured breathing of Toronado, and he realized they were not going to make it to the cave before the Russian would catch up with them. Soon, they would be within shooting range. Thinking fast, when they descended downhill between some trees, out of sight from their hunters for a moment, Zorro suddenly pulled from the reins to stop Toronado, and he jumped to the ground when the black stallion slowed down, before he had stopped completely.

"Go home!" Zorro cried, but the baffled horse stood there snorting and panting, wondering about his master's intentions and his odd behaviour. "Come on, go home! Quick!" Zorro shouted again, slapping Toronado's hindquarter. The horse neighed loudly and ran away, disappearing in the darkness.

Zorro could hear the Russian's horse approaching, and he wondered why his own strict moral code didn't allow him to carry guns. Under normal circumstances he didn't believe in killing. He thought that every human life was valuable, but he could have made an exception to that rule right now, as he had done with the German. He scanned the ground looking for a suitable large stone, and hid behind a tree, rolling it in his right hand, getting ready for a surprise attack. He tried to calm down and slow down his breathing, because he only had one shot, and he better hit the target right on.

When the Russian got closer, Zorro came out from behind the tree and threw the stone to his face. The Russian had a split second to look at him, showing surprise, but he fell off the horse when the stone hit his forehead. Zorro unsheathed his sword and ran to the fallen man, holding his sword's tip on his throat. But Vladimir didn't offer any resistance, because he was barely conscious. Zorro hesitated with his sword shaking in his hand. He had the perfect opportunity to send the Russian to hell and to put an end to the problems he was causing. But he could not kill him like that, not in cold blood.

"Damn!" he shouted to the darkness. In frustration, Zorro kicked the Russian's side quite hard, and moved away to start the long trek back to the Hacienda de la Vega.

ZZZ

For the next few days, the Russian didn't appear at the pueblo. When he did, he only entered briefly the alcalde's office. One afternoon, Diego was at the newspaper office leaning against the door frame, watching the scene at the plaza. The Don horse was carrying a lot of gear, and it looked like it was ready for a long trek. Diego wished the Russian was about to leave Los Angeles for good. When he came out of the alcalde's office, Vladimir spotted him. He looked at him with such hatred in his eyes, that Diego felt a chill up his spine. They held their gazes for a few seconds, and then the Russian climbed up his splendid horse and headed for the pueblo's gate. Diego sighed, relieved, glad they'd finally got rid of him.

ZZZ

Three days later, Sergeant Mendoza approached the table where Diego and Felipe were having lunch.

"Good morning, Diego. Felipe. Can I sit down?"

"Of course you can, Sergeant. Do you want to share a meal with us? We are having _pollo al ajillo_. I can ask for another portion for you, if you wish."

"Thank you, Don Diego. You are so generous. Of course I would like to try it. It looks delicious."

Pilar brought another dish, and the Sergeant tucked in, happily.

"I am so glad to see you have recovered from your injuries so well, Don Diego. We didn't think you were going to make it, but once again, you proved us all wrong."

"Thank you, sergeant. Sure, I am glad I am feeling much better, too."

"I don't understand why the Russian was so obsessed with you. I know he thought that you are Zorro, but still… I am so glad he is gone."

"Is he gone? For good?"

"Yes, I think so, Don Diego. I heard him talking to the alcalde."

"Do you know where he went?"

"He said he was travelling north. I think he may have mentioned Monterey, but I am not sure." The expression in Diego's face changed at the mention of that location.

"Mendoza!" called the alcalde from the tavern entrance.

"Madre de Dios! What does he want now? Excuse me for a moment, Don Diego."

The Sergeant left the table, and Diego kept staring into space, lost in thought.

"Victoria," he said with his eyes fixed on the empty space in front of him. "Victoria," he repeated, turning to face Felipe. "That's what I would do if I was the Russian: to find Victoria so she could tell me who Zorro is. I have to warn them."

ZZZ

"Why do you have to go now?" Cristina said, angry. The last time Diego tried to help Victoria, he ended up maimed by the ravine. She was the one left to collect the pieces, but she was in no position to do that now. "Why do you always have to run to her rescue?"

"I told you before, because I feel responsible. It is my fault that my relationship with her as Zorro made her a target. But don't worry, I just want to get to Monterey quickly and let Juan know about the Russian before he gets there, if he is going that way at all, which I don't even know for sure. Juan is a high ranked naval officer, and he can get military protection for his family. But I have to go now. The Russian left Los Angeles three days ago. If he is really heading for Monterey, a letter will not get there on time before he does. I'll have to ride non-stop changing horses along the way to catch up with him."

"And what about me? I am about to give birth to your first child. Don't you think I may need you here?" she said, still very upset.

"You may still have another two or three weeks to go. I'll be back by then if I hurry up. Anyway, you won't need me that much to give birth to our baby. You can do that yourself without me. The doctor will take care of you," Diego said. She was looking at him with trembling lips, about to cry, in despair.

"Look, Cristina, I love you. I would like to stay here with you and be the first one to hold our baby, but I won't forgive myself if anything happens to them just because I couldn't bother to warn them in time."

"You should have killed the damned Russian when you had the chance. I would have done that. And this whole situation would not be taking place."

"I know you would have killed him without a second thought, but I appreciate the value of every life much more than you do, even the life of a criminal."

Cristina scoffed at his words.

"And now, look at how you have to put yourself in danger again because you were too righteous to finish him off. All right, go if you must. But, please, kill him this time if you have another chance. God will forgive you, don't worry. I am sure of that. And we'll cheer you on it."

ZZZ

"_Mi niño, eres tan guapo como tu papá,_" Victoria said to her baby before placing him in the cot. "Your daddy will be here soon. _Siesta _time for you now, _mi amor,_" she added, kissing tenderly his chubby cheeks. She picked up the dirty dishes from the table, and blissfully turned around to go back to the kitchen, happier than she had felt for a long, long time. She was forgetting about Diego, Zorro was long gone from her mind, and she was finally falling in love with Juan, who was such an attentive husband and father, that she felt the most fortunate woman in the world.

The dishes shattered with a loud crash when she dropped them over the tiled floor. Victoria gasped in shock and froze in the middle of the room, frightened by the sight of that menacing man; someone she had seen before but she could not remember where, nor who he was.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" she asked, moving cautiously away from him.

"Stay where you are. Don't move," the stranger ordered. "I just have a few questions for you, and I hope, for you own good, that you will help me."

"What do you want?" she said, her eyes flitting between the man and the cot, a few meters away from her, out of reach.

"I want to know Zorro's secret identity. Who is he?"

"_Zorro?_" she blinked in surprise "Why are you asking me about Zorro?" Then she realized who the stranger was and where she had seen him for the last time: chasing Zorro away from Los Angeles. She spoke her thoughts while retreating slowly, even paler and more frightened than before.

"You are the Russian! But… you are _dead_!"

"I can assure you, darling, I am not dead, and I am not a ghost. But you will be one pretty soon if you don't answer." He came closer to her, and repeated the question, shouting loudly this time: "WHO IS ZORRO?"

"I don't know! I never found out!" she cried, hysterically. She moved towards the cot, but the Russian slapped her face hard, throwing her on the floor, among the broken china pieces. With her lip bleeding, she scrambled on the floor, slipping over the broken dishes, trying to move away from him unsuccessfully while slicing the skin on her knees and hands.

"Don't lie to me! I am sure you know because you were his girlfriend for years! Who is he?" he asked again, grasping Victoria's hair. He pulled tight, making her cry out in pain.

"I don't know, I swear I don't know!" she cried, struggling to get away, but he pulled even tighter.

"I am going to ask you one more time, and then I am going to kill you… and your baby too. Who is Zorro?"

"No! Not the baby! No, please!" she begged in a sea of horrified tears.

Someone knocked on the front door. The loud noise made Victoria and Vladimir stop the struggle, and they looked toward the door as if they had never seen one before, frozen for a few seconds. The door banged again.

"Helloooo! Victoria… Juan… Are you there?" a familiar voice shouted.

"Diego! HELP! HELP…m…"

She didn't finish her cry for help, pushed forward so violently by the Russian that her head hit the floor very hard, rendering her unconscious.

Diego tried to open the door, but the latch was on, so he charged against the closed door with his right shoulder, knocking it down out of its frame. He came into the house with such force that he also crash-landed on the ground, together with the door.

"You!" the two men exclaimed at the same time, recognizing each other with surprise. Diego got quickly on his knees, but Vladimir rushed to the entrance and kicked Diego's face before he could stand up. He fell backwards, dazed, with a taste of blood in his mouth, but he managed to avoid the second kick to his ribs by rolling on his side away from the fallen door. For the third one, he trapped the Russian's boot under his armpit, twisting it, and they both fell back on the floor. They punched and kicked each other fiercely, rolling on the floor together while pulling from each other's clothes. On the struggle, Diego's shirt was torn from the shoulder seam, revealing a large scar on his left arm. Vladimir stood up first, his face red with irrational rage.

"I knew it was you! _Zorro_. After all this time, I am going to kill you now!"

He renewed the attack with blind fury, delivering blows as if possessed with an extraordinary evil strength. Diego had trouble to avoid the shower of kicks and punches, and tried to retreat, in vain.

Startled by the commotion and the noise, the baby began to cry loudly. In the murky darkness of her mind, the maternal instinct kicked in and Victoria, recognizing that sound, slowly came back from the shadows. She crawled on the floor to reach her baby, feeling quite dizzy, and tried to soothe him by rocking the crib. Meanwhile, she turned to watch the two men fighting, and she quickly realized the Russian was winning. If Diego could not control the stranger she would be the next in line again, followed by her baby. She staggered away from the cot, grabbed the metal poker from the fireplace, and attacked the Cossack from behind, delivering a hard blow to his head, but it was not hard enough. He fell on the floor, moaning, but not unconscious.

"Victoria! Get your baby and get out of here!" Diego said, trying to stand up while holding his bruised ribs.

She dropped the poker, took her baby and ran outside passing by Diego, who was still on his knees. The Russian was trying to get off the floor as well, but was so stunned by the blow he just reached for his gun to finish Zorro off for good, the easy way.

Victoria ran wild onto the street, advancing only a few meters away from the house before she bumped into Juan, who was coming home dressed on full navy officer gear.

"Victoria! What are you doing? What's wrong?"

"Help Diego! He is going to kill him!" she cried.

"What? Who? …Where?" Juan didn't have a clue what was she talking about.

"Help him! In the house!" she screamed again.

Alarmed by her hysterical state, Juan drew his sword and ran to the house. He came through the door frame just when Diego jumped out of the way, encountering Vladimir's blast. The bullet hit his chest, right in the middle, and he fell on his back, with the sword still in his right hand.

Vladimir dropped that gun and reached for the other loaded one. Diego moved fast, seizing Juan's sword, and carried on with his momentum to pierce the Russian from side to side through his abdomen, impaling him against the wall before he could fire. Diego pulled the gun off Vladimir's hand and threw it to the other side of the room, and then turned to kneel down beside the officer.

The Russian wriggled while trying to pull the sword away, off the wall, with his bare hands, making them bleed. Vladimir felt too weak with the shock and pain, and fell unconscious while cursing in his mother tongue.

"Juan! Juan! Are you all right?"

Diego realized immediately his question was pointless. He was far from right. Juan was dying.

"Diego… what happened?" Juan said, weakly. "Who is that man?"

Juan groaned when Diego tried in vain to apply some pressure to the wound. He was bleeding profusely, with a large red stain expanding quickly over his white military coat. Diego suspected the bullet had damaged a large blood vessel, if not the heart itself.

"It is bad, isn't it? I am dying."

Diego could not lie, could not deny the evidence. Juan grabbed his sleeve.

"Promise me you will take care of Victoria," he asked, frantically.

"What?"

"She considers you like family. She has nobody else to help her. Please, promise that you will take care of her, and my son. Please." Diego could not speak. "Please…" Juan was fading away, the grip in Diego's sleeve becoming weaker with every second.

"I promise. I will take care of them. Don't worry, I will," Diego said with a trembling voice, overwhelmed by the emotion. Then Juan whispered his last words before he fell unconscious to never wake up again.

"Thank you."

After a couple of minutes, he died in Diego's arms.

ZZZZZ


	6. Chapter 6 - In Labour

**A.N -**** Yes! Victoria is back! Trouble ahead! LOL**

**Thank you for your wonderful reviews, I hope you are all enjoying this story as much as I am enjoying writing it. Well, some parts, at least. Now, thanks to the influence of Pearl Jam and their song "release" I got in a very sad mood. This chapter has been written less than 10 minutes ago. Sorry for any typos and wrong expressions, but I can't help it, I have to share it now, before I think I am too cruel and change something.**

**Btw. Real life is going to claim me for the next few days, so I don't know when I will post again. For now, I'll leave you with the greatest cliffhanger of all. Sorry.**

**Chapter 27 – In Labour**

"Diego, do you think she is going to be all right?" Don Alejandro said, greatly concerned about Victoria, who seemed to be affected by a deep depression. She stayed in her room at the Hacienda de la Vega most of the time, crying, and a nanny had to take care of her son. She would only breastfeed him if she was encouraged to do so, barely coming out of her trance.

"Yes, I hope so, Father. She needs time to get over the loss of her husband," Diego said. "It happened so fast, and the circumstances were so dramatic, she is going to take a long time to accept it."

As he had promised to Juan, the first thing he did, right after his funeral, was taking the shocked Victoria back to Los Angeles. But, that promise to her husband would not have been necessary because Diego blamed himself for the tragedy, and of course he would had taken care of the widow, regardless. In his mind, Juan's death was basically his fault, because —as Cristina had pointed out so bluntly— he should have killed the Russian when he was hopelessly at his mercy lying on the ground. However, the fact that Diego had made that promise was a good excuse to try to placate Cristina, who was most unhappy with the situation, always on guard as if Victoria was a constant menace to their marriage.

ZZZ

"Cristina, be reasonable. There is nothing going on between me and Victoria. Her husband died in my arms, but before he did, Juan made me promise I would take care of Victoria and their son. Now, listen: I have the intention to keep that promise, and that is final."

Cristina looked very cross, indeed.

"How would you feel if instead of Juan it was me, if I was dead? How would you feel then? I guess you would like to have someone to help you, to take care of you."

"I suppose so, but that person would not be Victoria."

"Why not? Maybe she would. Why can't you be friends? Why can't you give her a chance?"

"Because I know about your past together, that's why. And I know you still love her."

"Cristina, I don't want to talk about this anymore, ever. This is the last time. Yes, I _did_ love Victoria, and I will always care about her, in a different way now because I love _you_. There is nothing you can do about it: a very small portion of my heart will still beat for her. The rest is all yours, if you want it. I beg you; don't spoil our happiness together with your irrational jealousy. Please."

Cristina started crying, ashamed of her own weakness.

"I am sorry, Diego. I also feel sorry for her and her situation. I do, really. It is just that… I can't help it. I don't like to see her around you."

"Shhhss. Come here." He opened his arms and she fell into his embrace, trembling. "There is nothing to be jealous about," he said, tenderly caressing her hair. "I love you."

At that moment, the baby kicked her hard inside her abdomen, so hard that even Diego noticed it.

"Ouch! I felt that! I think she is also happy to know that I love her mummy so much."

He laughed, kneeling to kiss her distended abdomen. Cristina laughed too, wiping up her tears.

"Yes, she is!"

Diego stood up, happy to see Cristina had calmed down and seemed to understand. He took her arm to walk her to the dining room, but on their way out, Cristina suddenly bent down, resenting a sharp pain in her abdomen. Her waters broke, spreading amniotic fluid all over the floor.

"I think you got her so excited she wants to come out to see you," she said with an uncertain smile.

ZZZ

Doctor Hernández was sweating profusely. A few droplets were sliding down from his forehead. Despite his efforts, he was struggling to stop the haemorrhage. He could not place a lot of padding or pressure yet, because Cristina was still pushing to get her baby out. With the last combination of a strong uterine contraction and the desperate pushing efforts of Cristina, the head was crowning now, finally. Diego was by her side, showing obvious panic in his eyes when he looked at the doctor and saw his troubled expression and the amount of blood covering his arms, up to his elbows. However, he didn't say anything, and when he turned to look at Cristina again, he tried to maintain a serene facial expression while tenderly talking to her, trying to sooth her.

"You are doing so well, _mi amor_. Keep pushing. She is nearly here," he said, holding her hand.

With her last desperate cry and mighty push, the baby was out. The doctor placed the newborn gently in the warm towel Doña María Luisa had ready by his side. She was also frightened by the large amount of blood her daughter was losing, but stood by the doctor helping as much as she could without letting out any comments to alarm Cristina that something was seriously wrong. Bleeding in labour was a normal occurrence. That amount of blood, was not.

Doña María Luisa wrapped the little baby girl in the towel and dried her out while the doctor cut the umbilical cord. She was about to announce the sex of the baby when a gush of fresh blood came out, followed by a ripped placenta. Instead of the happy words _"It's a girl!"_ she couldn't help but to scream: "Oh, my God!"

"What's wrong?" Cristina asked. But her mother didn't answer, transfixed with horror looking at the desperate attempts of the doctor to contain the haemorrhage, using all the clean rags and towels at his disposal. "Mother, what's wrong? Is the baby all right?"

Doña María Luisa came out of her trance and approached her daughter to show her the baby, who had started to cry out with healthy, powerful lungs.

"No, no, the baby is fine. She is fine. She is a girl," Doña María Luisa said, rushing her words. She placed the baby to Cristina's side, so she could see her. "Here, this is Sofía."

She contained the tears, thinking her daughter might not have much time to enjoy her baby. She already looked terribly pale and weak.

"Sofía… See, Diego. I told you, she is a girl," she said, with a weak smile, caressing the crying newborn's cheek gently. She offered her pinkie to the baby, who grabbed it as if her life depended on it. Cristina melted with the emotion.

"Of course she is. You are always right, aren't you?" Diego said, his heart racing with the worry. He looked back at the doctor, who was still frantically pushing clothing material into Cristina's birthing canal. He looked at her daughter, and then back at Cristina. If she died, he would also feel responsible for it. After all, ultimately, it was also _his _fault she had become pregnant.

"Look at her, she is so beautiful. Just like her mother," he said, shaking, his voice breaking, unable to control himself anymore.

"She's got blue eyes, like you," Cristina said, ever so weak. She closed her eyes, unable to keep them opened, and fell unconscious shortly after.

ZZZZZ


	7. Chapter 7 - The Gift of Life

**A.N – I couldn't leave the story hanging there. The "voices" didn't let me. They nagged me all day and night so I would carry on. Enjoy and review, please. Thanks.**

**BTW, this is NOT the unexpected gift. So far, only the alcalde's desk has appeared. All the other elements for the 3****rd**** challenge are down the line.**

**Chapter 28 – The gift of life**

"I am very sorry, Diego. I can't stop the haemorrhage. Even if I could, she had lost too much blood already," doctor Hernández said.

"Please, keep trying, doctor. Do what you can. I can't lose her," Diego said with tears running down his face. He lifted his newborn daughter and kissed her gently, and with shaky hands he handed her over to Doña María Luisa, who was also silently crying by her daughter's side.

"There was something wrong there. That placenta was obstructing the way for the baby, and now it's ripped. That should not have happened. It hasn't separated in a normal way. It keeps bleeding," the doctor said, wiping out his forehead with the miraculously still clean sleeve in his upper right arm. A few more blood drops fell from his soaked hand while he did that, and they joined the rest of the blood stains already splattered on the doctor's shirt front.

"Keep trying!" Diego snapped in a rude way, standing up quickly. He needed to do something, whatever, but he didn't know what.

The doctor ignored his demanding tone, nodded and changed the rags, removing some very soaked ones, which dripped more blood to the floor. At that moment, Victoria came into the room.

"How is she? Is the baby born yet?"

Nobody answered, but Victoria realized something was very wrong. She could feel the tension in the room. She heard the baby softly crying in Doña María Luisa's arms, and then she saw the blood-soaked rags on the floor. Cristina was lying in bed, immobile, looking as pale as a white sheet.

"Oh, my God. Is she going to make it?"

"I don't know, Victoria. I don't know," Diego said, covering his eyes with his hand, shaking. Victoria walked up to him and hugged his friend, trying to comfort him. "I don't know what to do," he complained, sobbing, hugging Victoria quite tightly in his desperation.

"I remember you told me once about someone giving blood to another person, in Europe. Is that something you can try?" she said, trying to help. With her words, Diego abruptly broke the embrace between them.

"The blood transfusion! I forgot about that. Thank you, Victoria," he said, wiping out his tears. Without saying another word, he ran out of the room.

Victoria approached Doña María Luisa to look at the baby, who was still crying.

"Oh, she is so pretty. And she looks so hungry." She looked down at the ghostly pale Cristina, and then back up at her mother. "Should I feed her? I have plenty of milk."

"That would be great, Victoria. Thank you very much," Doña María Luisa said, handing over the baby to Victoria. "My poor daughter is in a very bad shape." She caressed her daughter's cheek, shocked at how pale and cold she was. "Of course, she can't feed her baby herself right now. Thank you so much. You are so generous."

"You are very welcome, but it's not a problem," Victoria said, happy to be able to help.

She sat down in a chair with Sofía in her arms. Then, she offered her breast to the crying little baby, and she latched on strongly, suckling desperately.

"Oh, she is a very clever girl! She got it right immediately," Victoria said, smiling, rocking her whole body gently while Sofía kept suckling, patting her little back softly.

ZZZ

Diego was down at the cave trying to find any materials suitable for a blood transfusion. A couple of years ago he had read about the experiments carried out in England, and had told Victoria about the possibility of transferring blood from one person to another. He had forgotten about it, but obviously Victoria was so impressed she still remembered it. In his desperation, he smiled slightly. He never would have thought Victoria was _actually _listening to him rambling about science.

He found a long, narrow, glass capillary tube that he used for his chemical experiments, which he could use to transfer the blood, and washed it thoroughly. Then, he look at the needles he had available. They were not suitable, because he needed a hollow one so he could administer the blood through it. He came back up to the library to look for a book. He remembered he had read about some experiments about a similar subject carried out in the 1650's, and he wondered what materials they used back then. He ruffled the pages quickly until he found the reference to a certain Dr Wren, who had used goose quills as a needle to administer drugs into the veins on his patients. That would have to do.

He slammed the heavy old book close and came back to the cave, looking for any suitable unused, clean writing feathers and quills. He found two with a big enough diameter and cut the points, making sharp bevel edges at the ends. He washed them, and then he attached the improvised needles into the glass tube, trying to get a sealed fit as close as possible by wrapping a tiny strip of cloth around the quills so they would fit tightly on the tube. Then, armed with his rudimentary blood giving set, he headed back to Cristina's room.

ZZZ

"How is she?" he asked when he came back into the room. Cristina was still unconscious, looking even paler than before, if that was at all possible.

"I think I have stopped the bleeding now, Diego. Or maybe she hasn't got any more blood left to lose. She is very weak," the doctor said. "I can barely feel her pulse."

"I made this device to give her some of my blood. I read about it a while ago, but I forgot, and Victoria has kindly reminded me all about it. It doesn't always work, and sometimes the patients die very quickly as a reaction to it, but there is nothing else we can do."

He moved a chair close to the bed. Then, he realized Victoria was still feeding Sofía, sitting on another chair.

"You are feeding her! Thank you, Victoria. Thank you so much."

"You are very welcomed. She is an angel, a pleasure to do it. Don't worry about it; it is nothing. I owe you my life. It is the least I can do to help you," she said, smiling at him. "I hope that blood transfer works. But I think I better go now, because I may faint if I see that. Only thinking about it is already upsetting me."

"Me too. I am getting queasy. I'll go with Victoria," Doña María Luisa said.

"Call my father then to help us. We need an extra pair of hands to keep her arm straight."

Doña María Luisa nodded. A little while after the women left the room, Don Alejandro came in, looking anxious and ecstatic at the same time, because finally, after all the time waiting and all the nagging to his son, he was an _abuelo_.

…**.**

**Author's notes: if you are feeling queasy, and you hate needles and blood, please skip the next descriptive bit about the improvised 1820's blood transfusion. You may faint, like Don Alejandro, ha ha ha. And don't worry if you suffer from **_**Tripanophobia**_** (phobia of needles). I can place IV cannulas, set IV lines and mess around with my patients' veins as much as I like, but if anybody comes close to me with a needle to take a blood sample, I hit the deck fast. I need to lie down straight and concentrate in something else before they can do it, or I faint. But, at least, if you skip this, read the last paragraph. Yeah, go girls! :D **

…**.**

"How is she? María Luisa said something about giving Cristina your blood. How are you going to do that, Diego? Is that even possible?"

"I don't know. It is the only thing I can think of to save her. I am willing to give it a try."

He climbed up to the chair and leaned over Cristina to position the tube at the right distance to her arm. Because the tube was glass, it would not bend to accommodate any movement, and he would have to be extra careful to keep still.

"There. Hold her arm straight, Father. Doctor, can you reach to place the quill into my vein, and then into hers when the blood flows down?"

"It will be a bit difficult, but I think I may be able to do it." He held the improvised device with his left hand, and the upper bevel quill in the right. "Hold still now" he said, and then he pierced Diego's arm with the sharp end to find his vein. "Now, hold down to it tightly with your other hand so it doesn't move. And stand as still as you can."

Diego's blood was slowly advancing through the narrow glass tube. He ignored the sharp pain he felt in the puncture site and, mesmerized, he looked at his own blood sliding down to reach Cristina. The doctor was ready with the other end close to Cristina's arm, and when the blood reached the lower end of the tube, he inserted the lower quill in her vein. The device seemed to be working right for a while, but then the little pieces of cloth became soaked and blood was oozing out at both ill-fitting ends.

"This is such a waste of blood, Diego" his father said, worried.

"It doesn't matter. I have plenty. If she is getting some and it is helping, keep going."

After five minutes of blood spilling everywhere, Don Alejandro said with a weak tone of voice:

"Doctor Hernández, do you mind to hold Cristina's arm for a moment, I… I…" The doctor held her arm, and Don Alejandro managed to move away a few steps before he fainted, collapsing on the floor.

"Father, you are supposed to be strong, a soldier," Diego mocked, not too happily because he was starting to feel weak himself, with the blood loss and the concentration required to stand still balanced over Cristina like he was. "Should we stop now, doctor?"

"I think so, Diego. I don't think she is getting even a quarter of the blood you are spilling now. But it may have been enough to save her."

He removed the quills from their arms. As he suspected, the blood had clotted inside the tube and most of Diego's blood had been wasted in vain. Diego leaned on the doctor to climb down the chair, and sat down on it, feeling dizzy.

"Can you please check on my father?" he asked, holding his head down between his hands. Doctor Hernández approached Don Alejandro and examined him quickly.

"He just fainted. He is fine."

"What about Cristina?"

"Well, she certainly has a much better colour than before. And her pulse is stronger. I think it may have worked," he said, enthusiastic. Diego stood up quickly to get closer to Cristina, but his blood pressure had dropped to the point to make him faint just like his father had done. The doctor sighed deeply, rolling his eyes to the sight of the two grown up men sprawling on the floor. He suspected that if the two "_impressionable_" women would be still in the room instead of outside, right then they would be busy, diligently cleaning the blood spills from the floor rather than lying on it.

ZZZZZ


	8. Chapter 8 - Jealousy

**Chapter 29 – Jealousy**

"She is going to be fine. She has to."

Cristina recognized that voice. It was a little harsh but nice and attractive, deep, masculine, and oozing determination. It was the familiar voice of Diego. She could hear the voices around her, quite distant and muffled, but she was so exhausted she could not bother to move; talk; open her eyes; or even wonder who they were talking about. Instead, she preferred to lie there swimming in that dense, dark fog, feeling the comforting warm touch of Diego's hand caressing hers.

"At least, she hasn't shown any of the bad reactions you talked about. You said some patients would die quickly after receiving the blood. She is stable, and I don't think that will happen now," the doctor said, hopeful.

"No, she'll be fine."

Diego gently stroked Cristina's face, which definitely looked healthier than the pale, pasty colour she had shown before the transfusion. The contact made Cristina abandon the comfort of the dark zone, and she opened her eyes slowly, blinking with the light she received.

"Cristina, you are awake!" Diego exclaimed, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. She smiled back at him, weakly.

"Yes."

She looked around, wondering why there were so many worried faces looking at her. Then she remembered. She was in labour and had given birth to a baby girl.

"Where is Sofía?"

"She is fine. She is with Victoria," Diego said. An obvious frown appeared on Cristina's upset face. "You have been lying unconscious for a few hours, Cristina. She has been feeding our baby and taking care of her for you. You should be grateful, as we all are."

Cristina struggled between the gratitude and the hate she felt for Victoria right then. She was afraid little Sofía could mistakenly think that Victoria was _her mother_; a very disturbing thought for her.

"I want to see my daughter."

"I'll get her. Don't worry, love," her father said, tapping gently on her hand. "I am so relieved you are going to be fine, Cristina. I was so worried."

ZZZ

Victoria had finally climbed out of the deep, lonely place she had got herself into after her husband was killed. Having a chance to help Diego by taking care of Sofía had proved to be an excellent way to come back to life. She should be able to take care of her own son again, and she still had plenty of milk left to feed the gorgeous new baby in the house.

"Victoria, Cristina is awake," Don Francisco said after knocking on the nursery room's door. "Can I come in?"

"Yes, come in," Victoria said. She had finished feeding Sofía a few minutes ago, and she was rocking the little baby to get her asleep. "Is she going to be all right?"

"I think so, but I don't know for sure yet. She wants to see Sofía. Can I have her?"

"Yes, of course. There," Victoria said, carefully placing the baby in Don Francisco's arms. He smiled lovingly looking at her granddaughter.

"She is so beautiful. Thank you, Victoria. Thank you for your help," he said without taking his eyes off the new-born baby.

"You are welcome, Don Francisco, but there is no need to thank me, not at all. I am really glad I could help. You have all been so kind to me these past few days that it's the least I could do."

Don Francisco was tenderly caressing Sofía's cheek, nodding to Victoria with an absent mind.

"You must be so proud, being a grandfather."

"Yes, of course I am. Now I have to compete with Alejandro, because I am sure he would like to be named _"the best abuelo ever."_ But I won't let him win this contest." They both laughed. "Come on, little one. Let's go see your mum."

ZZZ

Cristina was so frustrated she could scream. Following the initial melt down of happiness she had suffered when she'd seen her daughter for the second time, she had assured everybody that she was feeling well enough to take care of Sofía herself. The doctor had checked her over and had agreed she seemed well enough to try. Doña María Luisa had got everybody out of the room so Cristina could be quiet and relaxed to learn the _"art of breastfeeding."_ She had tried hard, but the baby was not latching.

After a while, Sofía wriggled away from the nipple and then started crying, complaining loudly.

"I don't think she is hungry, dear. Probably Victoria fed her not so long ago," Doña María Luisa said, taking the crying baby off her daugther's hands to pace the room rocking her on her shoulder, gently patting her back. After a while, the baby burped. "See?"

"Victoria! Always Victoria!" Cristina said, disdainful.

"What is it? Why are you so upset?" her mother asked, with reproach in her tone. "You should be grateful to Victoria. We all are."

"I… I…" she hesitated, "I don't like her."

"Why? What has she done to you, the poor soul? She has been so traumatized by the death of her husband it is nice to see her smiling at last. Why don't you like her?"

"Because she loves Diego," Cristina said, bitter.

"Well, they have always been friends, since childhood. I am sure she cares about him, of course."

"I said she _loves_ him," she accused. "And I think _he _loves_ her_ too."

"Don't be ridiculous! Diego? That's impossible. He only has eyes for you, dear."

"I am not so sure." Cristina started crying again. Her raging maternity hormones were all over the place.

"Cristina, don't be silly, please. Do you know you nearly died giving birth to Sofía?" Her daughter nodded slowly, wiping off the tears. "And do you know why are you still alive? Do you know who saved you?"

Cristina shook her head. _Better not be blooming Victoria!_

"Who did? The doctor?"

"Diego. Diego saved you. He gave you his blood."

"What?" She looked very confused. "Blood? How?"

"I am not sure; he called it "_blood transfusion_". He made a device with a tube to transfer blood from his arm to yours."

Cristina's jaw dropped.

"What? Do I have Diego's blood in my veins right now?"

"Yes, you do. Do you think someone who doesn't love you would do that for you? If he really loved Victoria instead of you, he could have taken advantage now that she is a widow to marry her after your death, don't you think?"

"I guess," Cristina said, reluctantly.

"So, stop the nonsense about Victoria."

"But I still don't want her to take care of Sofía anymore. I don't want my baby getting confused about who her real mum is."

"All right. I'll let Victoria know her help is no longer needed."

"Thank you. Yes, please. Do that."

ZZZ

During the following weeks Cristina gradually recovered her health. She had managed to take care of her daughter with the help of her mother and the nanny Don Alejandro had employed to help with the babies in the house, and Victoria never took care of Sofía again.

Victoria was feeling isolated and uncomfortable at the Hacienda de la Vega. The hostility from Cristina was too obvious and, to keep his wife happy, Diego had minimized the contact with Victoria, even avoiding her sometimes, and that was too painful to bear. Victoria missed Juan terribly, but at the same time, she was ashamed of herself because her old supressed feelings for Diego were reappearing, slowly but powerfully. She was considering moving to the tavern or finding a little cottage for herself and her little boy. Sometimes, she felt so lonely she even wished for Zorro to reappear in her life, so she could try to forget about Diego and Juan. But Zorro was also ignoring her. She had seen him once, at the plaza, and the contact between them had been reduced to a forced: _"Buenos días, señora."_

That was all he had said. But who could blame him? She had left him behind with no explanations to marry Juan. No wonder he didn't want to have anything to do with her.

In desperation, she buried her face on her pillow and cried for another twenty minutes. That day, it was the third time she had done that.

ZZZ

Doctor Hernández had just finished examining Cristina. He was extremely pleased she had recovered so well, as most women would have died after such obstetric problems and losing so much blood while giving birth. He was very impressed with the blood transfusion, which surely would be a giant leap in medicine, although much more research would be needed to make it safer and free of unpredictable reactions.

Diego was in the room too, waiting for the good news, and the doctor thought it would be a good time to do _"the talk"_, something he had been avoiding for a while_. _

"Cristina has recovered very well. I am very impressed, because to be honest, at some point I didn't think she could survive at all."

Diego nodded, serious.

"You did an excellent job, doctor."

"Thank you, Diego. But it was your blood transfusion what saved her, not me. And her will to live."

The doctor cleared his throat a couple of times, before he continued.

"However, under no circumstances should Cristina get pregnant again." He looked directly at her. "You'll probably die. I think your womb was damaged during labour. I am sorry, but another pregnancy would be too risky."

The doctor looked at the couple, alternating between them. Cristina didn't look too shocked, content holding Sofía in her arms, either unaware or heedlessly ignoring the implications in Doctor Hernández words. At the moment, she was too happy with her new baby to really care about anything else. The doctor focused on Diego.

"Do you _understand_?"

Diego nodded slowly, sad and disappointed.

"Yes, doctor. I won't let that happen. Ever."

ZZZZZ


	9. Chapter 9 - The Auditor

**Chapter 30 – The Auditor**

Ignacio de Soto sat at his desk, looking at the piece of paper in his hand, frowning. It was a _citación_, a subpoena of the Monterey Military Court for a proceeding which was going to be exceptionally held in Los Angeles. The hearing was part of an official investigation about the circumstances surrounding the death of the naval officer Juan Ortiz. Because his name had been immediately linked to the Russian's, the alcalde feared he could be ultimately blamed and charged with the lieutenant's murder. He had a lot to explain, and it wasn't going to be easy. At least, Vladimir had died the next day from his injuries and he could not involve the alcalde now by testifying against him.

Ever since the news of the tragic events had reached Los Angeles, De Soto had been haunted by a disturbing thought: that Diego could actually be Zorro, as the Russian had been saying all along. For the alcalde, it was unconceivable that Diego had managed to kill Vladimir, especially after a much more experienced and well trained military figure like Juan had failed to do so. It didn't make sense. And Diego had also killed Karl Jäger in that awkward duel. And, if he was actually Zorro, that meant he had fought with the Russian by the ravine and pushed him over the edge while he was seriously injured in his arm. But every time this kind of thoughts reached De Soto's mind, he convinced himself it wasn't possible: Diego didn't have the scar, and Zorro did. Still, as the Russian put it, there were too many angles to this story, too many unsettling coincidences and out of character actions by Diego, like that _"Go to hell"_ at the plaza.

De Soto shook his head, once again trying to dismiss the idea that his old school mate could be Zorro. He cleared his throat, and looked at the paper again, concentrating on it. The date for the hearing was in two weeks, so the _auditor_ should arrive at Los Angeles soon. He'd better get on with the task of preparing his defence.

ZZZ

While De Soto was reading his _citación_, Ernesto Sauras, the appointed Naval Auditor from Monterey, had already arrived at Los Angeles disguised as a merchant in an old cart full of trinkets and tools, and was selling wooden spoons and utensils in a stall at the market. He was a small, short man in his late thirties; less than 5ft 2"; thin and vivacious; and always on the move, either physically or mentally. He was extremely perceptive, sharp, and intelligent, and took pride on his ability to _"know people",_ a very useful skill for his job. He relished the opportunity to interact with the witnesses and defendants before the trial, when they were unaware of his identity and would talk freely to him, to get a better understanding of their true characters. After getting to know the witnesses in a relaxed situation, he could tell most of the times when a person was lying at the stand just by paying attention to their body language.

"Señor, can you tell me how much this bowl cost, please?" Victoria asked, pointing at a large wooden bowl which would be ideal to mix salads at the tavern.

"That one? Oh, yes, very large bowl that one. Very nice. But, why do you need such a large bowl, if I may ask? Do you have a large family?" Ernesto asked in a warm, friendly manner.

"No, I don't have a large family, but I have a busy tavern to manage."

Ernesto hid his surprise to meet the Lieutenant's widow, although he was suspecting she could be the one when he saw her approaching the stall, as the pretty woman was wearing dark clothes of _luto_ mourning.

"Oh, are you the tavern owner? In that case, for you, it is only 2 pesos."

"Really? Thank you. I thought it would be much more expensive."

Victoria smiled, and they continued chatting for a while until they were interrupted by Sergeant Mendoza.

"Buenos días, señor. I am Sergeant Jaime Mendoza, of the Spanish Royal Army. How are you today?"

"Fine, thank you. I am Ernesto Sauras, a humble merchant from Santa Barbara, at your service. Nice to meet you, and nice to be here in this friendly pueblo doing business."

"About that… You haven't paid the customary Traveller's Tax, or the Trader's Tax, señor. The combined fee for both is twenty pesos. And you have to pay that now."

"Twenty pesos? That's outrageous, sergeant. You must be joking."

"No, I am afraid not. The alcalde himself asked me to collect the tax due from you."

De Soto was at the door in his office across the plaza, watching the scene with interest.

"I can't possibly pay that amount. It is too much. It is an abuse."

"But you have to. The alcalde said so," Mendoza insisted, weakly. _Madre de Dios_, how much he hated that part of his job.

"I am not paying that."

"But…"

The alcalde sighed, annoyed by the sergeant's incompetence, and walked briskly across the plaza.

"I am Ignacio de Soto, alcalde of Los Angeles. I suggest you either pay the tax, or you try the jail for a couple of days. Your choice."

"Not paying taxes on the spot would be a minor civil offence, not punishable with a jail sentence, señor," Ernesto said, quite cross.

"And how would you know that?" De Soto sniggered. "You are a simple merchant. Or are you a lawyer, by any chance?"

Ernesto realized his words sounded odd for a seller of trifle displaying a rough four-day beard. He changed tack, but stood his ground.

"No, I am not a lawyer, but I travel a lot, and this is the first time I came across such an abusive scheme. I am not paying your stupid tax, which is obviously unofficial and made up by yourself."

"Very well. Sergeant, confiscate the goods and take this man into custody for refusal to pay taxes. Now!"

"Alcalde! You cannot do that. If you keep treating merchants like this, nobody will travel to Los Angeles to trade!" Victoria said.

"Of course I can, señora. I am the maximum authority in this pueblo. I can do what I want. Sergeant Mendoza, arrest this man, and take everything with you!" the alcalde ordered again, sweeping with his left arm all the objects for sale at the counter in the stall, dropping them to the ground. Ernesto was fuming by the offence, and was about to blow is cover revealing his identity when Zorro arrived at the plaza riding on Toronado.

"Alcalde! What are you doing? Harassing innocent traders again? How dare you?" he mocked, carving a "Z" in De Soto's jacket. "There, better. Your new jacket needed some decoration."

Victoria laughed. She had almost forgotten how funny Zorro could be when he was feeling playful. He touched his brim and smiled at her warmly, saluting Victoria without a word, but with leftovers of love in his eyes. She blushed, embarrassed by the unexpected emotion she felt then. As a widow still mourning the death of her husband, she was dressed completely in black, just like her hero, and any kind of flirting with men would be inappropriate then. Ernesto noticed her lapse, but Zorro didn't.

Zorro leaped off his horse and came close to the alcalde on foot, with his sword still in his hand.

"Alcalde, I can't leave you out of my sight for a second before you misbehave. Why do you have to be so demanding? I am sure you drove your nanny insane when you were a child."

"Lancers! Zorro is here! Arrest him!" the alcalde shouted, unsheathing his sword to attack the man in black.

Zorro parried the lunge easily, smiling. Then, with the tip of his sword, he swiftly lifted one of the wooden bowls which lie on the ground; grabbed it in mid-air with the other hand; and threw it to the alcalde's face, hitting his nose with it, making it bleed. De Soto moaned in pain and dropped his sword on the ground, among the bowls and spoons. Zorro turned to face Mendoza, who had also unwillingly got his sword out. The sword was shaking in his hand badly, and he could hardly keep it up.

"Zooorrooooo…" he squeaked in a high pitch, closing his eyes in fear. The masked man just hit the Sergeant's sword gently to disarm him, and moved away from the stall to fend off the approaching lancers coming from the garrison.

"Who's that man?" Ernesto asked Victoria, although he already knew.

"That is Zorro, señor. Haven't you heard about him?"

"Yes, I have. But I thought Zorro was an outlaw, a criminal with a price on his head, not someone that would come to help me like this."

"Zorro is not a criminal. He is a hero of the people. He fights for justice and against tyranny, like this outrageous tax system."

_And you still love him_, the auditor thought. Of course, he had heard about their relationship, and wondered why she had left Los Angeles and married the unfortunate Lieutenant.

They both watched the amusing scene at the plaza. Zorro smiled broadly, and it was obvious he was having a good time fighting with the lancers. Ernesto analysed how the so called "dangerous criminal" played with the soldiers, disarming them and tossing them to the ground by using his whip, without harming them. The inept soldiers would get in each other's way, bumping into each other, and ended up tumbling to the ground in heaps. It was puzzling, but it wasn't the attitude of a criminal. The auditor had seen too many to know the difference.

The alcalde recovered from the blow, cursing, and reached for his pistol. He aimed at Zorro and fired, but Victoria slapped his hand at the last second, and he missed the target.

"A wasp! You had a huge wasp about to sting you, alcalde!" she said, hurriedly, while De Soto looked at her with his eyes throwing daggers. A trickle of blood had run over his white moustache and beard, staining the area pink when he wiped it off, and the contrast with his furious appearance made Victoria smile, despite her efforts to keep a straight face.

"Yes. I saw it too. Huge, it was," Ernesto said, amused as well.

"You are both going to jail!" the alcalde roared, pointing at them with the unloaded pistol.

Zorro had finished disarming the soldiers, and came back close to the stand. With a fast whiplash, he disarmed De Soto too, taking away his now useless pistol.

"Alcalde, you are not serious, are you? Do I have to remind you that you are on your own now? That little plot of yours didn't work. There are no more bounty hunters left to help you do your dirty laundry," Zorro said, pointing his sword to the Alcalde's chest. "This way of abusing people has to end. Now. Today. No more trader's and traveller's tax. You can be one, but not both." All the people in the plaza cheered at his words. "Now, please, pick up the goods you threw to the ground so this seller can continue with his good work."

"No," De Soto said, lifting his head up, standing as straight and dignified as he could, with Zorro's sword still in contact with his chest.

"Very well. You can go, then."

Zorro lifted the sword off, and let the alcalde pass by. When he walked over the objects still on the ground, Zorro kicked his rear end hard, forcing him down to the ground among the spoons.

"I see; you changed your mind. Well done, alcalde. Now, pick them all up."

As the last straw, Zorro carved another "Z" in De Soto's trousers. The humiliated alcalde growled in anger while everybody else laughed.

Zorro whistled and his black stallion came promptly. He jumped onto the saddle, saluted to the crowd when Toronado reared on his hind quarters, and they disappeared in the distance at full gallop.

ZZZ

"I heard you had a good time today at the plaza," Cristina said that night while she sat in bed waiting for Diego to undress, feeding Sofía before putting her to sleep in the cot beside their bed.

"Ah?" Diego said, playing ignorance.

"Yes, you heard me. Victoria could not refrain herself, talking about Zorro and how he had handled the alcalde."

Diego laughed.

"Well, yes. _That_. I did. You should have been there, too. I had so much fun today," he admitted.

Cristina continued to look at him dead serious, with reproach in her eyes.

"Come on. It was easy. No more bounty hunters waiting for me; I didn't feel in danger at all. Toronado needs the exercise, and you know it. I rode him to the pueblo with that purpose. I didn't know I was going to end up engaging the alcalde. But it was too much fun. I would not hesitate to do it again."

"Victoria said the alcalde shot Zorro, but she slapped his hand and he missed the target: _you_, by the way."

Diego dismissed that comment waiving his right hand, and got into bed beside Cristina. Sofía had finished feeding, and he gently took his daughter in his arms and placed her little head over his broad shoulder.

"I was fine, honestly. Don't worry so much about it."

He rocked the baby until she burped; kissed her; and then handed her back to her mother, who placed her little daughter on the cot beside her. Sofía was a happy, content baby who would rarely cry, and she fell asleep immediately.

"No more stunts, please. You are a father now."

"Yes. I know. Don't worry."

He kissed Cristina goodnight and blew out the candle on his bedside table. In the darkness, feeling Cristina's warm body by his side, he felt aroused. They had not been intimate since she had given birth, but after his promise to the doctor, he was reluctant to initiate any kind of contact that could not be fully consummated. If he dared to touch her, he was not so sure he could keep that promise. He sighed, and turned to the other side moving his body away from hers.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing. I'm tired. I want to sleep. Goodnight, _querida,_" he said with eyes wide open into the darkness.

"Goodnight," she said, too tired herself to worry about it. Shortly after, Diego could hear the regular respiration of his wife and daughter. He sighed again, and continued to lie still until he managed to relax. That night, it took him a while to fall asleep.

ZZZZZ


	10. Chapter 10 - Unexpected

**Chapter 31 – Unexpected**

All the main witnesses had initially been summoned to Monterey, but Alejandro de la Vega had used his influence to make a point it would be easier to send an auditor to Los Angeles rather than taking all the witnesses involved to Monterey. He had argued that his son and Juan's widow were too traumatized by the events to travel back to that place. As a result, the specially commissioned Navy Auditor had been sent to hold a hearing in Los Angeles, as most of the witnesses involvedresided there. His role was to collect all the facts and information related to the case, and report back to the judge in Monterey, who had the authority to press charges and prosecute any suspects.

The auditor had been trying to find a suitable, large enough room to hold the public hearing, with little success as Los Angeles didn't have large buildings. The only two places he could possibly use were the church and the tavern. He decided to use the tavern. After all, he was getting only too familiar with it, spending most of the afternoons and evenings there, after he had finished selling goods at the market in the mornings to maintain his cover.

Following their initial confrontation at the market, thwarted by Zorro's intervention, De Soto had kept the distance and hadn't bothered Ernesto anymore with the taxes or any other issues. Free to roam the pueblo, in only a few days the auditor had engaged on trivial conversations with most of the citizens of Los Angeles, one way or another, and had received some juicy gossip about the witnesses.

The auditor was particularly intrigued by Diego de la Vega, the man who had allegedly killed the Russian and was the only direct witness to Juan's death. As everybody agreed over the fact that Diego was a quiet man more interested in his books than in any kind of action, Ernesto could not see a reason why that man would travel to Monterey in a rush, other than love. He had seen cases before when a lover had killed a husband and had managed to blame someone else for the crime. That was one of the avenues he had to explore. However, De Soto was the main suspect in the investigation, as Ernesto had heard on the grapevine that Vladimir was acting under his direct command with the excuse to find Zorro. If the Russian was following orders by the alcalde, De Soto should be the one held responsible.

That morning, sales had been slow at the market stall. There were only a limited number of wooden spoons, bowls and trinkets that could be sold at any one time in a little pueblo like Los Angeles. If Ernesto was a real travelling merchant, he should be moving on to his next destination. Hopefully, the constables and notaries that would help him on the hearing should arrive that afternoon on the stage coach, and he wouldn't need to pretend anymore. With the initial part of his job done, he could progress onto the next stage.

Ernesto watched Diego de la Vega coming out of the newspaper office. He wandered around the market stalls, looking for something. Slowly, he drifted to his stall, where he stopped to look at what he had to offer. Diego lifted one of the spoons to examine it closer. He shook his head, and then he left it delicately back on the counter.

_How can this man with such mild manners be responsible for killing the Russian? _the auditor thought.It was really beyond him.

"Do you need a spoon by any chance, señor De la Vega?" Ernesto said, smiling politely, with a hint of friendly mockery.

"Well, yes, funnily enough, I do," Diego said, smiling back. "I need to transfer some ink to a smaller container and spread it, and I can't find the little tool I normally use. A spoon would do, but I don't see anything suitable here. Your spoons are too large."

"What about that one?" Ernesto said, pointing to the smallest one. At that moment, they were interrupted by the alcalde.

"Good morning, señor Sauras. Diego."

He saluted both, and then he focused on the merchant, ignoring Diego as if he wasn't there.

"It has been a week since you arrived at Los Angeles, señor, but you still haven't paid any of the taxes. I let you off the hook before in case you came up with the excuse of not having funds in advance, but, after a week of profitable business, I expect you to pay the twenty pesos required. Today. Now."

"Alcalde, I thought Zorro made you understand how unfair and abusive that figure is," Diego said.

"No, he didn't. The taxes are necessary, and a requirement from the King of Spain himself," De Soto said, pompous. Ernesto laughed.

"I don't think the King would mind much if I don't pay today."

"Ignacio, let it go for once in your life. Think about it. Zorro won't like it."

"I don't care what Zorro may or may not like. I'm not afraid of him. Besides, he is not going to show up at the market right now, and you should know that fact perfectly well."

Diego was puzzled by this statement. The alcalde had sounded just like the Russian.

"Should I? How?"

"Never mind. Señor Sauras, pay the twenty pesos now or I'm taking you into custody in jail."

"I am not paying. And I am not going to jail."

Ernesto was delighted to be so irritating, pushing the alcalde to his limits like that.

"For the love of God, Ignacio. You are like a _mastín_ dog. Let it go. If it is that important, I'll pay the twenty pesos," Diego said, leaving the coins at the counter.

"You are not a trader, Diego, or a traveller. He is. _He_ has to pay."

At that moment, the stage coach arrived at the plaza, ahead of schedule.

"Excuse me. I am expecting someone. I'll be back in a moment, and I hope for your own good you have the twenty pesos ready by then."

De Soto left them to approach the large carriage parked at the entrance of the tavern.

"You are very generous. Thank you for your help, but I don't need your money," Ernesto said, returning the coins to Diego.

"Don't worry. Keep them. The alcalde can be really stubborn sometimes, and you don't want to be in trouble with him. I think you better pay the taxes this time."

"I won't be in trouble. But he will."

"How's that?" _Why is everybody talking in riddles today?_ "Is Zorro here?" he said, looking around, pretending interest.

"You'll see, in a minute," Ernesto said with a mysterious smile.

Two large men in uniform got out of the carriage. They were well armed, and looked menacing. Another two rather less muscular men followed, carrying writing tools and a heavy box full of writing paper with the official stamp of the Monterey Court.

"They must be the _escribanos_ for the hearing that is going to take place here next week," Diego said. "And the large ones that look like soldiers should be the _alguaciles_. But I don't see the auditor. I guess he is the one the alcalde is expecting."

"Shall we help him to find that man?"

Ernesto left the stall and approached the carriage. Diego followed him, intrigued. When they got there, the alcalde had just finished introducing himself to the newcomers.

"So, where is the auditor?" De Soto asked.

"Here he comes," said one of the notaries, with a naughty smile. The alcalde looked around, and into the carriage, but it was empty.

"Where is he?"

He saw the spoon merchant and Diego approaching, but not the auditor.

"I told you to wait there, at your stall," he barked, quite cross.

"I know, but I changed my mind. I want to pay your taxes, Alcalde," Ernesto said, compliant. He addressed then one of the _escribanos,_ who was hardly able to contain his laughter. "González, give me twenty pesos, _por favor_."

"He doesn't know yet, does he?" the clerk said, laughing openly now while he handed over the money.

"No."

Ernesto turned to face the perplexed alcalde, and threw the coins to his face.

"There, your taxes. With compliments from the King. To be returned to the King."

He turned back and grabbed some of the writing gear González was carrying.

"You must be tired from the journey. Let's get into our rooms at the tavern, and we'll have a drink. I am tired of sleeping in that uncomfortable cart."

"Wait a minute," De Soto said, stepping after them, but he could not get far. The two constables stood in his way, looking serious.

"Going somewhere, Alcalde?"

De Soto tried to push them, but they didn't give in an inch.

"Get out of my way!" he demanded, struggling with them. "What's going on?"

"Ignacio, I think you had just met the auditor," Diego said, laughing too.

The alcalde stopped struggling, when the upsetting truth set in.

"Son of a…"

ZZZ

For the next few days, the auditor was quite busy preparing for the hearing, and he ignored De Soto completely. He ordered Victoria to clear a space in the tavern to accommodate an improvised stand for the witnesses, and selected three of the tables to be used as desks for him and the _escribanos_ to write down the notes of the proceeding. All the other tables, chairs and benches were moved further back, for the public. The hearing would take place in the morning and early afternoons, and the tavern would be running normally at any other times. After all, people would need to eat lunches and have a drink from time to time. Victoria was quite happy with this arrangement, because she would make a substantial profit from it. Nevertheless, she wasn't completely happy about the hearing, because she was dreading the moment when she would be called to the stand to testify.

For the last few weeks, Victoria had been spending more and more time at the tavern, mainly to get away from the Hacienda de la Vega —and Diego. Recently, she would get out in the carriage with her son in the morning for a few hours, and came back in the evening. She wasn't prepared to move to the tavern permanently, because she had other plans. It was a shame that in order to move forward with her life, she will need to talk to Diego about it.

Two days before the hearing, Victoria made up her mind and decided to tell him her plans. She stepped out of the tavern and crossed the street to get to the Guardian's Office. She walked in to find Diego working on the new edition, on his own.

"Hello, Diego. Are you busy right now?"

"Hello, Victoria. No, I am not that busy. Please come in. Do you need anything from me?"

"Yes, I need to talk to you. I have been thinking…" She paused, unsure how to continue.

"Yes? What is it?"

"I'm very grateful for your help and the way you treated me by providing a safe and caring home at the hacienda for me and my son, but I think it's time for us to move on."

She didn't like his sad expression, but she continued with a determination she didn't feel.

"I would like to sell the house in Monterrey and buy another in Los Angeles, close to the tavern. As Juan's will trustee, I would like you to help me with that. As you know, the law doesn't allow me to buy or sell property by myself, and I will need to do it through the _albacea_. In this particular case, _you_."

"Of course, Victoria. I can help you. However, think carefully about it, please. Are you sure this is what you want? You can stay at the hacienda for as long as you need. You know that."

"Yes, Diego, thank you. But I have made up my mind."

"My father will be sad to let you go. He is quite fond of little Alejandro."

"You know I named him after your father, of course."

"Yes. It was nice of you to do that."

"Your father may be sad, but I know Cristina will be happy."

Diego looked upset by this comment, frowning.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's true, Diego. I know, so don't try to deny it. It's too obvious. She doesn't want me around you."

Diego kept silent, as he didn't know what to say, fidgeting with his writing quill.

"I have a house in mind already, if you want to have a look at it," she said, changing the subject.

"Yes, of course. Whenever you want."

Victoria nodded and walked to the door, to go back to the tavern. Diego stood up and accompanied her to the entrance.

"Let me know when you want to go to see that house."

"Thank you, Diego. I'll see you later."

They both reached for the door at the same time, and their hands met at the handle. The unexpected contact felt like a bolt of lightning for both of them. Victoria lifted her eyes to his and held his gaze for much longer than it should have been appropriate. After a few seconds, Diego took his hand off hers and cleared his throat, flustered and embarrassed.

"Tomorrow, we can go tomorrow," he managed to say in the end, rushing his words. He knew he should get Victoria out of the hacienda as soon as possible, to eliminate such close temptation. The excitement he felt right then could only lead to trouble. Cristina was right to feel jealous, although he would never admit that to her.

"Yes, that would be great. Tomorrow," she agreed, blushing red. She hurried outside, walking to the tavern as fast as she could, even more embarrassed than Diego. Confused by her baffling feelings, she could not understand how it was possible for her to still be in love with her deceased husband; miss him terribly; and at the same time have feelings for another two men: Diego and Zorro.

_Oh, my God. Why is this happening? What am I going to do?_

ZZZ

De Soto entered the tavern and asked for a glass of brandy. He had been carefully thinking about his position all day. It was very unfortunate he had antagonized the auditor right from the beginning, when he didn't know his identity. His chances to come out clean after the hearing had been reduced significantly because of this. He could only see a way to divert the attention from his role in the murder: to express his suspicions about Zorro's true identity. He had been considering confronting Diego about this issue for a while now, and that afternoon, two days before the hearing, he made up his mind. The alcalde gulped the liquor down, slammed the empty glass at the counter, and then marched purposely to the Guardian's Office. On the way there, he passed Victoria, who walked by in a rush in the opposite direction.

"Good afternoon, señora," the alcalde said, polite. He heard Victoria mumbling a salute, but she didn't even look at him, such was her haste. _Crazy woman,_ he thought.

De Soto reached the newspaper's office and stormed in without knocking at the door. Diego was still standing by the entrance, thinking about Victoria, and he received an unexpected mighty blow right on his face. He staggered backwards, crying out loud in pain.

"Arghh! For Goodness sake, Ignacio! Can't you knock first?!"

His nose started to bleed profusely, and he walked to his desk to get a handkerchief, with blood already staining his expensive white shirt.

"I am sorry, Diego. What the hell were you doing standing behind the door?"

"And good afternoon to you too, Ignacio," Diego said, disdainful. _None of your business, that's what I was doing._

He sat down at the desk with his head back, pressing with the cloth trying to stop the nose bleed. With the acute pain, his eyes spilled involuntary tears he could not stop from flowing down his cheeks.

"Look, I'm sorry, but to be honest, not much," the alcalde said with a broad grin, enjoying the situation. "Hitting your face is just a tiny reward of justice for all the times you have humiliated me."

"Excuse me?" Diego said, confused.

"You know what I am talking about."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. Only a few days ago, you also made my nose bleed… _Zorro._"

Diego sat upright again, to be able to look at the alcalde in the eye. De Soto looked dead serious.

"You are not going to start with that nonsense again, are you? I am not in the mood. I am hurt." He reclined back, pretending to ignore him, looking at the ceiling.

"I am serious, Diego. I couldn't believe the Russian before, but now I think he was right. It has to be you. It can't be anyone else."

"Do you want to see my arm again?" Diego said, starting to undo his shirt slowly, one-handed, pretending to be helpful.

"Only if I can scrub off whatever it is you have used to cover the scar."

Diego stopped and looked at De Soto, caught out of words.

"You are insane," he finally said, derisive, buttoning up his blood-stained shirt.

"I am going to testify that you are Zorro," De Soto threatened.

"As you please. But, tell me, how is that going to help you? You sent the Russian there. It is your fault Juan is dead. And he nearly killed me, too. And Victoria. And her son."

"I didn't know he was going to do that. I would not have allowed it, and you know it."

"Really? How would I know that? The only thing I know is that you employed the bounty hunters, who were totally out of control in the pueblo, harassing and hurting everybody. I don't know what you allowed or didn't allow. For example, you allowed that maniac to flog Felipe. And I am not even sure how I managed to survive it all!" Diego was so upset remembering what happened at the plaza, he was shouting, with his face reddening with rage.

"See? The calmed and composed Diego de la Vega would not dare to talk to me like that. Only Zorro would."

"How do you want me to talk then?" Diego held his hand up in a fist, and counted extending his fingers with each sentence: "During the past few months I've been shot; then you put me in jail unnecessarily; then I had my skull cracked open, and I am alive only because I jumped out the way of the bullet that killed Juan Ortiz. Who else should I blame but you, considering the other two are also dead?"

"I should arrest you right now," De Soto said in a cold tone.

"Why don't you, then?" Diego said, slamming his fist on the desk, so enraged he nearly gave up on the pretence.

He held the alcalde's gaze for what if felt like a very long time. De Soto tried to maintain an expressionless face, because he felt confused. Even if Zorro had humiliated him countless times, for some bizarre reason De Soto suddenly felt sympathy for the man in front of him. Listening to his tirade, he even felt guilty for the ordeal Diego had to endure. Images of the Indians beating Zorro up instead of him came to his mind, mixed with that horrible noise Diego's skull had made when the Russian slammed it with his musket. Angry with himself and his weakness, the alcalde averted his eyes from Diego's first.

"I don't know." He looked at the floor for a while, and then lifted his eyes back to Diego, who had managed to calm down a bit in the meantime. "Why did you take the Indian challenge for me?"

"What Indian challenge?" Diego said, raising an eyebrow.

"You know what Indian challenge!" De Soto cried, frustrated. He was frustrated with Diego, with himself, and with the whole world by then.

"Why did you shoot Gilberto?"

"Because I'm stupid. I didn't realize it was you back then. Or I didn't want to believe it. Maybe I should have left him shoot you and none of this would have ever happened. Actually, I could be back in Madrid right now."

"Then, maybe you should have taken that challenge yourself and plunge to your death from that wall, or let the Indians burn you alive," Diego said, extremely calmed this time, with his eyebrow raised high again, "and I certainly would have a few less scars to cover up."

De Soto nodded, understanding, and backed off.

"Do you swear you had nothing to do with the Russian going to Monterey?" Diego said when the alcalde had already opened the door to leave.

"Yes, I didn't know. He only mentioned he was going to Monterey. I didn't realize he was going to hurt Victoria for a confession. After all, that plan had already backfired before."

"All right. Goodbye, Ignacio."

When the alcalde left, Diego slumped on his chair with the blood-stained handkerchief crushed in his right hand.

_What the hell did just happen here?_

ZZZZZ

…**..**

**Author's notes**** \- you may have realized the time line of the episodes is wrong here, because my story diverged from the official story line of the show in the episode **_**"A New Lease on Love"**_**, in season 3, when Victoria married Juan. It is an AU story, which I called "spin-off" from that episode.**

**Let's just pretend the episodes **_**"Ultimate Justice"**_**,**_** "Blind Man's Bluff"**_**, and**_** "The Dicovery"**_** happened before, and of course, Gilberto wasn't about to reveal Diego's secret when he died, or things would have been very different. In my story, he never got to say: "…I am not only killing Diego, I am also killing…" And Alejandro was inside helping Felipe and never got to see Diego's swordfight. To suit my story, Don Alejandro has to be clueless about Diego being Zorro. Can you please be that flexible? Thank you. **

**Many thanks also for your kind reviews. Hope you are enjoying this story. And keep reviewing, please! :D**


	11. Chapter 11 - The Hearing

**Chapter 32 – The hearing**

Diego arrived at the pueblo the next day in the carriage with Felipe. He needed his presence so nothing inappropriate could happen while visiting an empty house with Victoria, but he didn't tell the youngster the real reason. He was ashamed of himself because he was so out of control, like a teenager would, but he couldn't help it. All that time of sexual abstinence while Cristina recovered after giving birth and his hesitation to resume their love-life didn't help the situation with Victoria at all. Despite he was so much in love with Cristina, his longing for Victoria had the nasty habit of reappearing. In this particular occasion, too strongly.

"Good morning, Victoria," he saluted when he arrived at the tavern, trying to be casual and calmed.

"Good morning, Diego. Felipe. Thank you for coming. What happened to your face? Are you all right?" she said, alarmed when she saw Diego's nose, which was swollen and purple after the blow with the door the day before.

"Yes, I am all right, Victoria. The alcalde came into the office right after you left, and hit me with the door. It was an accident."

"Oh, yes. I passed him by on my way back to the tavern yesterday. Are you sure you are all right? That looks painful."

"Well, yes, it was really painful to start with, but I am all right now, don't worry," he said, smiling reassuringly.

"Should be go to see that house now? Or do you want to have a drink first?"

"We can go now, and maybe have a drink later. Where is the house? Is it far away from here?"

"No, it's at the end of the pueblo. We can walk."

Victoria came out from behind the counter. When she passed the kitchen, Pilar walked through the curtains.

"Are we going to see that house now, Victoria?"

"Thank you, Pilar, but I think it would be better if you continue your work here."

Pilar nodded when she saw Felipe standing behind Diego.

"Very well, I'll stay here. I will see it another day after you buy it. Diego, Felipe," she saluted, and came back into the kitchen.

Victoria tried her hardest to contain the blushing when Diego gave her an understanding look. It was too obvious, and a real shame, neither of them was keen to be alone with each other anymore.

ZZZ

The owner had been at the tavern earlier and had lent her the key so she could visit at a convenient time during the day, because he was busy at his hacienda, away from the pueblo. The property Victoria was interested in was the last one in the row of houses, at the end of the broad way in the middle of the pueblo. It was a small house, with a corral and a small portion of land at the back, fenced.

"And this will be my garden," Victoria said when she walked through the back door after showing Diego and Felipe the interior of the house. "What do you think?"

"It is a nice little house," Diego said. Felipe agreed, nodding. "Strong, and well built. And it's convenient if you are planning to keep managing the tavern."

"Yes, it will be perfect. I didn't like the idea to have little Alejandro at the tavern all the time if I moved back into my old room upstairs. He can stay here with the nanny for a while when I am at the tavern, and I can come to check on him easily."

"Who is the owner?"

"Don Manuel Martínez."

"All right. If this is really what you want, I'll talk to him later and we'll agree on the sale. Are you sure?"

"Yes, Diego, I am. Thank you."

"Very well. Let's go back to the tavern and we'll have that drink, shall we?" he said, tapping Felipe's back while guiding him back to the entrance.

ZZZ

The next day, Victoria was the first witness to be called to the stand. The auditor thought it would be better if the widow could testify first and then leave the improvised court, so she didn't need to listen to the details given by the other witnesses. He knew that it would be too upsetting for her. He liked her, and he hoped not to end the day finding out she was cheating on her husband, and involved somehow in the murder.

"I was at home, doing some house chores…" Victoria said, starting her account while fidgeting with her hands on her lap, hesitant. She had _befriended_ an outgoing, friendly merchant at the market, and now that man looked like a different person: well-groomed and shaved, serious, and dressed in an elegant black suit. He looked too intimidating now. "…when I saw that man standing in the main room. I didn't hear him coming into the house, and it frightened me so much I dropped the dishes I was carrying. I didn't recognize him at first, not until he started to ask me about Zorro. Then I realized he was the Russian, one of the bounty hunters that had chased Zorro in Los Angeles. But, he was supposed to be dead, at the bottom of the ravine, and for a moment I thought he was a ghost." She stopped her account, annoyed by the rumours of laughter in the crowd.

"Please, continue," the auditor said while taking notes. Even if he had two official notary _escribanos_ recording every word the witnesses said on paper, he still took his own notes while listening to their testimonies. Sometimes he would record their reactions and attitude, rather than their words, or his own impressions.

"He attacked me, and threatened to kill me and my baby if I didn't tell him the name of the man behind the mask. But the truth is, I couldn't tell him, because I never found out. Zorro always kept his identity secret, to protect me. Or that's what he said. I guess he was right."

"How long were you involved in a romantic relationship with Zorro?"

"Four years."

"And in those _long_ four years, you never found out his identity?"

"No."

"That's hard to believe, señora."

"Maybe, but it is the truth. I don't know who Zorro is. That's why I could not tell the Russian. Or you, or anyone else. Anyway, even if I had known the name, I would not have told Vladimir. That man was crazy."

The auditor wrote some more notes. _She says she doesn't know who Zorro is. Odd, but I believe her._

"What happened next?"

"There was a knock on the door, and I cried for help. The Russian pushed me, and I hit my head on the floor. I don't know how long I had been unconscious for, but when I woke up, my baby was crying, and Diego de la Vega was fighting with the Russian. Well, more than fighting back, he was struggling, beaten to a pulp by that horrible man."

She paused and looked at Diego, embarrassed to make him look weak, but Diego nodded to her with encouragement, as she was getting more and more agitated as her story progressed to the conclusion.

The auditor noted their brief glance exchange. _Maybe they could be lovers after all_. _But, doesn't she like Zorro too?_

"I grabbed the poker from the fireplace and I hit the Russian's head from behind as hard as I could. Then, Diego told me to get my baby and get out of there, which I did." Her voice was trembling now.

"Did you think it was unusual for Don Diego de la Vega to have travelled all the way to Monterey unannounced? You were not expecting him, were you?"

"No, I wasn't expecting him. And I didn't have much time to think if it was odd or not that he was there. I was only grateful that he was fighting with that man."

"Now, in retrospect, why do you think he was there?"

"I don't know. I guess he had finally accepted my invitation to visit us, maybe? He didn't tell me, and I didn't ask him. We don't talk about what happened. It's too painful."

"Sorry, señora, but I have to ask you this: did you see your husband get killed?"

Victoria could not keep herself together any longer and she started crying, shaking her head.

"No, I didn't," she said while sobbing. "I ran to the street carrying my baby, and I saw Juan coming home. I asked him to help Diego, but he didn't understand what I was talking about. In the end, he reached for his sword and ran to the house, while I continued my way to hide in the church. That was the last time I saw my husband alive."

She stopped talking, crying inconsolably. The auditor addressed her gently.

"Thank you very much for your statement, señora Ortiz. You can leave the stand now, and this room, if you wish."

Victoria nodded, stood up and walked up to the stairs, to get to her old room. Diego, who was sitting at the end of the first row, close to the stairs, stood up and tried to reach her, but the auditor called him to the stand.

"Don't go anywhere, señor De la Vega. You are next."

ZZZ

Diego, like all the other witnesses at the stand, swore on the Bible to say only the truth. He was calmed, and looked at his father reassuringly, nodding. As it was a preliminary hearing and no formal charges had been issued against any of the witnesses yet, there were no lawyers involved to protect their client's interests. Don Alejandro was not happy about this, but there was nothing he could do. Besides, his son had done nothing wrong, and with his general knowledge of the Spanish Law, he could defend himself pretty well even in a formal Court.

The auditor started Diego's questioning with a bang.

"Don Diego de la Vega, do you at this moment in time, or did you at some point in the past, have an affair with señora Ortiz?" he asked, out of the blue.

The public rumoured about it, as they had always suspected Diego had been in love with Victoria. Diego, surprised by that opening question, shifted in his chair, uncomfortable. Only a little, but it was just enough for the well-trained auditor to perceive.

"Why do you ask me that?"

"Please, answer the question."

"No, I don't have an affair with Victoria, nor did I before. She is a friend of the family." He looked briefly in her direction.

_ He likes her. A lot, _the auditor thought, scribbling in his papers. Then Ernesto looked at Cristina, who had blushed bright red, up to her ears, and looked quite cross. _And his wife knows about it. How interesting._

ZZZ

Victoria had left the room in tears, but she wanted to listen to Diego's testimony, so she had left the door at her room ajar. After hearing that question and blushing at least as red as Cristina, if not more, she was glad she was out of sight from everybody.

ZZZ

"What happened to your nose?" the auditor asked next.

"I had an accident with a door," Diego said, trying to be casual.

"Are you sure? To me, that looks more like the sequel of a nasty punch," Ernesto said, scrutinizing Diego's face.

"No. As I said, it was an accident. Alcalde De Soto came into the newspaper office rather fast yesterday. Apparently, he still doesn't know he should knock first. That man has no manners." There was some laughter among the public.

"Is that true?" the auditor asked the alcalde, who also sat at the first row in the witnesses' bench.

"Yes, I hit him. It was an accident. I honestly don't know what was he doing standing behind the door," De Soto said, sniggering nervously.

_ Why is it I don't totally believe that explanation? There is something going on between these two,_ wrote the auditor in his notes.

"Don Diego de la Vega, can you tell me what made you abandon your heavily pregnant wife, who was about to give birth to your first child, to travel to Monterey with such urgency and short notice?" _His wife could not look any angrier_, noted the auditor.

"Yes. It was a conversation I had with Sergeant Mendoza at the tavern. He said he had heard Vladimir telling alcalde De Soto he was going to travel to Monterey. I had the bad feeling the Russian could try to reach my friend Victoria Ortiz to question her about Zorro's identity."

"Do you believe she knows who Zorro is?"

"No. I don't think she knew his identity then, nor now."

"Were you concerned Vladimir Volkov could discover Zorro's secret identity?"

"No. Not at all. My only concern was that he could harm my friends, as he did. That's why I travelled to Monterey, to warn Juan of the danger so he could take the appropriate measures."

"Why didn't you send a letter?"

"Because I was afraid it would reach them too late. The Russian had left Los Angeles three days before my conversation with Sergeant Mendoza. I thought the only way to reach Monterey before he did was to ride all the way there myself, non-stop."

"Why didn't you tell alcalde De Soto your concerns, and he could have sent a trained soldier instead?"

"I don't know. I thought he would not believe me. He has a tendency to do that. To be honest, going myself was a bad idea. When I reached Monterey, I was so stiff and sore I could hardly feel my rear end."

Everybody chuckled, trying to picture clumsy Diego riding hard for such a long time.

"Do you think alcalde De Soto himself had sent Vladimir Volkov to Monterey to find out Zorro's identity by any means?"

Diego looked at De Soto, who was agitated and worried. He had said he didn't know what the Russian was going to do, and despite all his differences, Diego believed him.

"No. I don't think so. He knew the Russian was going to Monterey, but thick as he is, he probably didn't even make the connection of that place and Victoria Ortiz." People in the public laughed again at the punch line. "I think he was just glad Vladimir was leaving. I certainly was when I saw him departing Los Angeles."

"Can you tell me exactly what happened since the moment you knocked at the door?"

"Yes. I called Victoria and Juan's names, and then I heard a woman crying for help. I heard a thud, and the cry was suddenly interrupted. I tried to open the door, but it was closed, so I charged against the door with my shoulder and I knocked it down."

Corporal Sepúlveda, sitting with Mendoza in the middle of the public, laughed at this notion of Diego de la Vega knocking down a closed door with his shoulder, on his own. Mendoza elbowed him on the ribs.

_"What?"_ the Corporal whispered, annoyed by the blow.

"Continue," the auditor said after throwing Sepúlveda a disapproving look.

"I fell to the ground, on top of the door. Then the Russian attacked me."

"What did he do?"

"He kicked me and punched me viciously, and the only thing I could do was trying to protect myself, especially my head."

"Is it true that he had fractured your skull previously, hitting it with a musket butt?" Ernesto had heard that story at the tavern.

"Yes."

"Why did he do that?" The auditor kept writing on his paper.

"I told him to go to hell when he was flogging Felipe. He didn't like it."

"Why was he flogging Felipe?" The story was getting more and more interesting.

"Vladimir and the Alcalde came up with this outrageous way to find out who Zorro is: a lottery. And the winner, Felipe, was going to get ten lashes unless someone revealed Zorro's identity."

The auditor looked at De Soto.

"Was that your idea?"

"Yes. No. He did. Well, both. Yes. But, when nobody came forward, I stopped him and Felipe only got five lashes instead of ten." A roar of indignation rose among the public the same as it had happened at the plaza. De Soto turned to look at the public. "I don't need to justify my actions to you!"

The auditor shook his head, and kept writing notes. Then he looked at Diego again.

"What happened next? How did you manage to stop him?"

"I didn't. I couldn't. Victoria did. She hit his head with a poker. He fell to the ground, but he wasn't unconscious. I told Victoria to get out, while I was trying to stand up to flee myself from that house and look for help. In the end, he got his pistol out, and aimed at me. I thought he was going to kill me, but I managed to jump out of the way when he fired. Unfortunately, Juan Ortiz came into the house at that very moment, and the bullet hit him instead of me."

The public started rumouring again.

"Do you mean the Lieutenant's death was accidental?"

"Yes. It was."

"Who killed the Russian, who was found impaled at the wall with Juan's sword, still alive?"

"I did. Without much thinking, I grabbed Juan's sword and ran toward the Russian, who was getting his other loaded pistol ready. I stabbed him with the sword, piercing him from side to side. It was self-defence, and I still don't know how I managed to do that. I guess it was the fear I felt what helped me."

"How did Juan Ortiz die? Did he die immediately?"

"No, he died in my arms. I tried to stop the haemorrhage, but it was impossible. The bullet hit his chest, right in the middle."

"Did he say anything before he died?"

"Yes. He asked me to take care of his wife and son, which I did."

_How convenient_, the auditor thought. Diego's explanation looked genuine, but Ernesto was still bothered about the suspicions that Diego and Victoria loved each other.

"Thank you for your testimony, Don Diego. You are free to go, for now."

ZZZ

The next person to be called to the stand was the alcalde.

"Do you know why Vladimir Volkov travelled to Monterey?" the auditor said.

"No, I didn't know what purpose he had travelling to Monterey. He didn't tell me he had the intention to attack señora Ortiz, or I would not have allowed it," the alcalde said.

"Are you sure you didn't know?"

"Yes."

"Did you send him there to harm Victoria and Juan Ortiz to discover Zorro's identity?"

"Absolutely not," De Soto said, dead serious.

"Why did you request the services of that group of bounty hunters?"

"I didn't request their services, _señoría_. They offered them themselves. They promised they would capture all the outlaws in the area to get the rewards on their heads. At the time it looked like a good idea, because they looked serious and competent, and they would help me to get rid of Zorro."

"Do you mean it _wasn't_ such a good idea?"

"No, it wasn't. They became demanding, and their methods were… _inhumane_, to say the least."

"Inhumane… What do you mean?"

"For example, they shot some bandits on their back. They never caught anybody alive. They were heartless killers."

"What else?

"The leader, Karl Jäger, was too aggressive. He attacked several citizens in the pueblo trying to find Zorro. He even shot the doctor in his foot, and broke his fingers."

"Is that true, doctor Hernández?"

"Yes, he did," the doctor said from the third row in the public.

_Ask him about it later_, Ernesto scribbled. This whole story about the bounty hunters was too entertaining. He focused on the alcalde again.

"Were you afraid of the bounty hunters, Alcalde?" De Soto shifted in his chair, uncomfortable.

"I wouldn't put it that way… I was afraid for the safety of the soldiers and the general population if they had to be confronted, yes."

_Scared shitless_, the auditor wrote.

"What happened to the leader?"

"He died," De Soto said, evasive. He didn't want to talk about the duel. But the auditor was like a dog with a bone.

"How?"

"Ah… he died," De Soto repeated, blank to say anything else.

"Alcalde De Soto, I know he died because you said that already. But, how did he die? Was he killed? In that case, who killed him? Answer the questions."

"He died… in a duel."

"A _duel_? Duelling is illegal. Why did you allow a duel in your pueblo?" the auditor said quite aggressively, pretending to be upset. He had taken part in two, himself, and he respected anybody who would defend his honour that way.

De Soto shifted in his chair again, and pulled at his collar. Ernesto was delighted to see the alcalde in trouble.

"I didn't. I didn't know until it was finished."

_Liar_, the auditor thought.

"Who killed the German?"

De Soto wriggled again, and looked to someone in the public. Ernesto followed his gaze to find Diego, who looked very serious. _I see_.

"Don Diego de la Vega," the alcalde said, finally, giving up.

"Did he?" the auditor said, rising an eyebrow as if he was surprised. Then he addressed Diego. "Don Diego de la Vega, did you kill Karl Jäger in a duel?"

"Yes, I did."

"Why didn't you say so when you were at the stand?"

"You didn't ask. Neither had I told you I killed a cockroach yesterday."

The people in the public laughed again.

"Don't try to be clever with me, señor de la Vega," the auditor menaced, serious, pointing his finger at Diego.

"I am sorry. I didn't mean to be rude," Diego apologized. Antagonizing the auditor to amuse the audience had been a bad move.

"What happened exactly? How did you kill him? And remember, you are still under Oath."

"I didn't want to fight him. He tried to drag me into a fight several times, provoking me until he slapped me with his glove in front of everybody at the plaza, the day after my wedding. In the end, we arranged a duel with pistols, and I killed him. I was lucky, I guess, but I nearly died too. He shot me through the liver."

The auditor glanced at the doctor, who nodded in agreement at Diego's words. _Who would have thought? The quiet man has killed vicious killers not once, but twice. At least._

"Alcalde De Soto, why did you allow the duel to take part?" he asked again. "Why didn't you stop it?"

"I didn't know it was happening," De Soto said again, agitated.

"You are lying. Of course you knew. Probably you were hoping Don Diego could kill that man to get rid of him for you. Is that the truth? Are you ashamed of the truth?"

De Soto blushed red.

"In a way, yes. Maybe. But I didn't think it could happen. Come on, what were the odds of Diego de la Vega killing a killer?" he sniggered. "Of course I heard some rumours about a possible duel, but I didn't know about it _officially_. I understand duelling is illegal, especially on the military, but there has to be some leeway in cases when civilians have been offended and it is the last resort to defend their honour, like in this instance. So, I turned a blind eye on it, yes. Probably I shouldn't. However, Don Diego was arrested after the duel and stayed for a few days in jail."

"Alcalde, how can you be so miserable as to have that man risking his live to do your job, and then have the nerve to arrest him after he was injured? I don't like your methods, not at all. From implementing outrageous taxes, employing killers to do your job, harassing the people you are supposed to protect and serve… I am a representative of the Spanish Royal Navy, and I don't have the jurisdiction to prosecute you myself, but I am going to recommend a thorough investigation to the Governor." De Soto swallowed hard. "Concerning this case, you seem so incompetent I don't think you could control your subordinates at all, so probably you didn't know about Vladimir's intentions. However, did you know why Diego de la Vega travelled to Monterey?"

"No, he didn't tell me his suspicions then. I didn't know he was gone or anything until the news of the lieutenant's death reached Los Angeles."

"Thank you for your testimony. You can leave the stand for now. We'll have a recess for lunch. One hour."

ZZZ

After lunch, Don Alejandro was the first one to be called at the stand.

"Don Alejandro de la Vega, do you know why Vladimir fractured your son's skull?"

"I don't know why that Russian attacked my son at the plaza. The same I don't know why the German, his boss, tried to kill him too. They hated him for some reason."

"And what do you think that reason may be?"

"As I said, I don't know. Maybe it was jealousy of an intelligent but quiet upper class caballero, who looked like an easy target for abuse. We all know my son is the kind of person who would rather resolve any conflict peacefully. A concept these killers didn't understand."

"Was your son in love with señora Ortiz?"

Don Alejandro hesitated. He didn't like it, but after swearing on the Bible he had to tell the truth, even in front of everybody.

"Yes, he was."

As he expected, everybody started rumouring loudly. He looked at Diego, apologetically.

"How do you know?"

"Because he told me, after Victoria married Juan Ortiz."

"Did she know about it?"

"No, I don't think so. My son never told her, because she was so much in love with Zorro he was afraid he could not compete with him for her love."

Don Alejandro wished for the questioning to be over. He couldn't even look at Diego at that point, such was his shame.

"Why did she marry the lieutenant then, if she loved another man?"

"I don't know. For what she told me, she wanted to start a family. She had been waiting for him for too long, but Zorro is not the marrying kind, so she gave up on him. When Juan proposed, she accepted. They got married in a rush, and they left for Monterey the same day. Victoria is like a daughter to me. I advised her to marry Juan, rather than waiting for Zorro. At least, they had been childhood sweethearts, and she still liked him."

"Why didn't you advise her to marry your son instead?"

_Yes, why I didn't, indeed, and we would not be here right now_, Don Alejandro thought.

"I would have, but I didn't know he loved her then. I only found out later."

At that moment, Cristina could not take it any longer. She stood up, and headed for the tavern entrance.

"Señora de la Vega, where are you going?" the auditor asked.

"Excuse me. I need some fresh air," she said, ignoring him, and continue walking to reach the street. Outside, she started crying consumed by her overwhelming jealousy, glad Victoria was still out of sight or she would get into a cat fight with her, pulling all that raven black hair off her beautiful head.

The auditor felt sorry for Cristina, but he ignored her and continued grilling Don Alejandro.

"Why did your son travelled to Monterey in a rush?"

"He already explained that, didn't he?" Don Alejandro grunted.

"Yes, he did, but I want to know your opinion."

"I don't know. He didn't tell me at the time. I wasn't at home when he left. I didn't talk to him about it, or I would have suggested the soldiers, as you did. When I came back home, he was gone. Cristina told me he went to warn Juan about the Russian, just in case he would show up to ask Victoria about Zorro."

"Did you think it was unusual for your son to do that? Something out of character for him?" the auditor asked, still writing.

"Out of character? In a way, yes. But I understood his concerns. And he was right. He usually is, with his premonitions."

"Thank you for your testimony, Don Alejandro. You can leave the stand now."

Don Alejandro step down and walked back to his seat, beside his son. He was so ashamed he didn't look at him in the eye. Diego patted his knee, reassuringly.

"It is all right, Father. You did well," he whispered.

ZZZ

Don Francisco and several other people were called after Don Alejandro to testify. Then it was Doctor Hernandez's turn.

"Doctor Hernández, why did Karl Jäger shot you?"

"Because he was crazy," the doctor said, careful to protect Zorro.

"There must be another reason. Was he looking for Zorro?"

The doctor hesitated, but decided to tell the truth. After all, he was under Oath.

"Yes. He tortured me to get his name. He started breaking my fingers one by one. When I couldn't tell him Zorro's identity, because _I didn't _know, he shot my foot. Then, as the last resort, he stumped on the wound and pressed mercilessly, torturing me until he was satisfied I didn't know."

"What about _now_? Do you know who Zorro is now?" _He unconsciously remarked that "I didn't know",_ the auditor noticed.

"Are you going to break my fingers and shot me for a confession too?" the doctor said, derisive.

_Ah! I knew it_, Ernesto thought.

"No, I am not, because you are under Oath and you are going to tell me yourself willingly. Do you know who Zorro is?"

"I have my suspicions about several men in the pueblo, yes. But even if I knew who he is, I wouldn't tell you, because that would breach the patient's confidentiality."

_He knows_, Ernesto scribbled. _Definitely. He doesn't know how to lie. _

"You are not a priest, and you didn't hear it on confession. Sure you can tell me."

"No, I can't. Sorry," the doctor said, stubborn, upset and flustered because he had got himself in that situation, and he didn't know how to get out of it without involving Diego.

"Lancers, take this man into custody _indefinitely_ until he cooperates," the auditor said.

The public complained, booing, but the doctor was removed from the tavern and taken to jail, nonetheless.

ZZZ

In the late afternoon, it was Sergeant Mendoza's turn at the stand.

"Did you hear a conversation between Vladimir Volkov and alcalde De Soto the day the former left Los Angeles?" the auditor said.

"Yes, I did."

"What did Vladimir say?"

"He told the alcalde he was going to Monterey, but he didn't say what for."

"Are you sure? Did he mention Juan or Victoria Ortiz?"

"No, he didn't. Or at least, I didn't hear that, señoría."

_Shut up, Mendoza. Just say "no"_, the alcalde thought.

"What did you think about Vladimir?"

"That man was crazy. _Loco_," Mendoza said, twisting his index finger at the side of his forehead. "He was obsessed with finding Zorro's identity, and he insisted Don Diego is Zorro, which is absurd."

People in the audience started rumouring loudly again.

_ Oh, Sergeant, don't go there. Why did you have to mention that? The alcalde didn't, _Diego thought, closing his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply to keep calm. He opened them again and looked at the soldier. Whatever was going to happen, he could not blame him. His friend was a simple soul, who sometimes should just keep his big mouth shut.

"Did he?" the auditor said, with his hand stroking his chin. That was a notion he was starting to consider himself. He could not stop wondering how Diego de la Vega, a man so notoriously known for his lack of fighting skills, more inclined to quiet activities rather than action, someone who everybody insisted would not be able to kill a fly, had managed to kill two of the most dangerous men that had ever set foot in California. It would all fit nicely if Diego de la Vega was Zorro. He could have killed his lover's husband, then kill the only man who suspected his secret identity, and managed to blame the murder on him. He could have committed the perfect crime. However, he didn't look like a killer, or a criminal. Something didn't add up.

"Sergeant Mendoza, do you think Don Diego de la Vega is Zorro?" the auditor asked. Mendoza laughed at the notion.

"No, señor, I don't think so."

"Why not?" Ernesto pressed.

"Well, for example, Don Diego hasn't got a scar in his arm. The Russian said he had wounded Zorro with his sword, and he and the alcalde checked all men in Los Angeles. Don Diego didn't have that scar. Besides, Don Diego is nice, and gentle, unskilled with the sword, and…. clumsy." People laughed at his words. Somehow, he was describing himself. "No way can he be Zorro."

"Thank you very much, Sergeant. We'll have a short recess now," the auditor said. He stood up and approached the _escribanos_ while people headed for the counter to get a drink. They whispered a few words that Diego could not hear, but it didn't matter. He knew what would come next.

ZZZ

"Although a formal indictment is still pending, I consider there are enough evidences to bring charges against Diego de la Vega, suspected of criminal activities carried out disguised as the outlaw named El Zorro," the auditor said after the short recess.

"This is preposterous!" Don Alejandro cried, jumping up from his seat. A loud rumour spread at the tavern, with everybody talking at the same time.

"Quiet!" the auditor shouted. He looked at the old don with cold eyes which issued a warning for the interruption. Sheepishly, the old don asked politely then.

"_Señoría, _may I speak up, please?"

"Briefly," conceded the auditor.

"My son cannot possibly be Zorro —I would have known. He would not have been able to hide that from me," Don Alejandro said, agitated. "But I don't understand the turn this enquiry is taking. This was an investigation about the tragic death of Lieutenant Juan Ortiz. I don't understand how it has drifted to wild, unfunded accusations about my son being Zorro."

"I don't know how it has happened myself, but due to the testimonies and the evidences, it is a possibility I need to address."

"Excuse me, _señoría._ May I speak?" Diego interrupted. The auditor nodded.

"Yes?"

"I thought this is a preliminary hearing, and not a trial. Isn't it?"

"Yes." _There he is, the scholar talking_, Ernesto thought, annoyed.

"So, you are not officially pressing charges against me yet, or otherwise I would need a lawyer. Is that correct?"

"Yes. But I will press charges if it is appropriate when we finish here, and you'll have to travel back with me to Monterey to stand trial. From now on, and until the end of this hearing, you are under custody," Ernesto said, nodding at the two menacing, well-armed _alguaciles —_who up to that moment had been watching the proceeding from the bottom of the tavern, inconspicuously leaning against the wall. They moved closer to Diego, and stood behind him. De Soto smiled, amused by this humiliating treatment.

"Thank you. That's what I needed to know," Diego said, sitting down again while Don Alejandro stood there, out of words.

"But… but…"

ZZZZZ


	12. Chapter 12 - A Different Wording

**Chapter 33 – A different wording**

There was only one more witness left to finish the investigation about Juan Ortiz's murder, and then Ernesto could concentrate on the issue of Zorro's identity. In fact, he could start the second investigation with the same witness, but finding out if Diego was really Zorro would be done the next day as it was already evening in Los Angeles.

He called Cristina to the stand. She had calmed down after her outburst of jealousy, and now she was focused on preventing Diego's prosecution.

"Señora de la Vega, do you think your husband had an affair with señora Ortiz?"

"No, I don't think he had an affair with Victoria Ortiz. Not that _kind _of affair, anyway. I think he loved her, at some point, and he may still do, but he is a gentleman and nothing improper ever happened."

The auditor admired her composure, admitting openly in public her husband may be in love with another woman. And she had managed to do that without crying or making a scene, as most women would do in that situation.

"Why do you think he travelled to Monterey rather than staying at home with you, _ready for the birth of your first child_?" the auditor remarked to provoke her.

Cristina looked at the auditor with cold, menacing, angry eyes, as if she would be about to blow his head off with a mighty punch. Ernesto enjoyed her feisty attitude, glad to know her calm was a façade. For him, it meant she shouldn't be that calmed when he'd ask her about Zorro.

"He told me he had to go to Monterey right then because if anything happened to Victoria or Juan, just because he could not bother with the hassle of getting there quickly enough himself, he could not live with that guilt. I wasn't happy about it, but I understood his reasons. Vladimir was three days ahead, and there was no other way to get there on time before he did."

"Is your husband, Diego de la Vega, the outlaw named _El Zorro_?" Ernesto asked quickly while Cristina was still upset.

"No, he is not Zorro," she said without a flinch. The auditor focused so much on her body language that he missed the surprised expression in Diego's face.

"Are you sure? You are under Oath."

"Yes, I am sure, he is not Zorro. Sometimes I wish he could be, because that would make my life much more exciting." She looked sadly at Diego as if he was the dullest man on Earth. "But my husband is just plain Diego de la Vega, not a man hiding under a black mask."

_How can she lie so well?_ Diego wondered.

"Do you know who Zorro is?"

"No, I don't. I don't think anybody really knows."

Ernesto was very impressed. Either she didn't have a clue, or Diego was not Zorro. However, she didn't look like the kind of wife that could be fooled by her husband that easily.

"Thank you for your testimony, señora de la Vega. We'll continue with the hearing tomorrow morning at nine. _Alguaciles,_ take Don Diego de la Vega into custody in jail, please. He can keep company to the doctor."

"I'll be all right, don't worry," Diego said to his father. He stood up and the constables roughly grabbed his upper arms and guided him outside, across the street to the alcalde's jail. He didn't have the chance to say anything to Cristina.

ZZZ

"Alcalde, let me go inside to see my husband. Alone," Cristina said for the second time, her voice firm and aggressive. "As you may be aware, I may not have much time left to enjoy his company if the auditor takes him to Monterey. Please," she added, without really begging but _demanding_ to see Diego.

"Why should I allow that? He is supposed to be kept isolated, as per the auditor's instructions," De Soto said, with a sly smile, which Cristina would love to erase from his face with a hard slap.

"Please, let me come through. I don't want to beg. _Please_."

De Soto shook his head again, enjoying the moment.

"No."

"What difference does it make to you, or to the auditor? None!" she shouted. "But it would make a great difference to me, of course. Isolation? That is ludicrous. The doctor is there with him. They could be talking and plotting all night, if they wanted to!" _And I hope they do_, she thought.

"Yes, you are right. They could talk."

He was reluctant to let her in, but she was right. It would not make a big difference to anybody else, and if Diego was found guilty, he would be taken to Monterey for trial and a very probable death sentence. And, after all, he _was_ guilty, even if his wife didn't know. De Soto had also been convinced by her performance at the stand.

"All right, all right. You can go in. Ten minutes. You know the way," he said, showing her the back door at his office.

ZZZ

"Aren't you nervous? The alcalde will be at the stand again," Cristina said. They talked to each other in a low tone, nearly whispering, just in case, although there were no soldiers present.

"Well, yes, of course I am. But I know De Soto. Deep down, he is not a bad person. I trust he would do the right thing," he said, grasping the bars of the cell firmly, hopeful.

"Diego, sometimes you can be so naïve it is unbelievable," Cristina scoffed.

"Maybe. But I believe there is a clear line between right and wrong, and most of us know where that line lies, even if we chose to ignore it."

Cristina shook her head, dismissive.

"What about you? How could you so calmly swear under oath, over the Bible, that I am _not_ Zorro?"

"Yes, how could you? I can't do that. You have to tell me how," doctor Hernández said, joining the conversation from the adjacent cell. Cristina smiled smugly.

"I could. Easily. The key is in the wording. I don't believe that you _are_ Zorro, because to me, you _are_ Diego de la Vega. You _pretend_ to be Zorro, and you dress like him, but that person doesn't actually exist. I can honestly swear all the times that may be necessary, under oath or otherwise, that you are _not_ Zorro, without any remorse. And you should learn to do the same, both of you, because that auditor is going to ask you. Oh, yes."

Diego looked at her, frowning, but didn't say anything.

"Diego, what are you going to say when he asks you? You can't give yourself up like that. There are no hard evidences against you. _This_, the proceeding, the jail, and the whole detention thing, is a mockery, but you could spoil it with your marked sense of honesty and righteousness. You can't admit in Court that you are Zorro, or that you know who he is. And neither do you," she added, looking at the doctor.

Diego still didn't say anything. He let go of the bars and looked away from her, to the floor.

"Diego, look at me." He did, reluctantly. "I am serious. You have to learn to lie. Well, I mean, not to lie, but to _bend the truth_. You have always been right keeping Zorro's identity a secret from anybody to avoid this kind of situation. Only God knows how your father, or Victoria, or even Mendoza would have reacted otherwise to this enquiry if they had known. But you have to convince yourself to be able to convince others. You are NOT Zorro. Come on, say it aloud: _I'm not Zorro. I'm Diego de la Vega._"

"I'm not Zorro. I am…" Diego hesitated, struggling, and finally sighed deeply. "This won't work, Cristina. I _am_ Zorro. I can't lie."

"Diego, you are killing me. Do it as you like, convince yourself as you need to, but you have to deny that statement at the hearing. And you know it."

She was about to start crying in frustration again, so she excused herself she had to see Sofia.

"I have to go. Please, think carefully about it. It is in your hands, and only yours. Oh, and yours too, of course," she added, addressing the doctor. She left the jail quickly, wiping the tears along the way, angry at Diego for being so uptight, and extremely worried she was going to lose him unless he would be able to put his conscience aside.

"She is right, you know?" Doctor Hernández said.

"Yes, I know," Diego said, letting out a long sigh. "She is always right. That's my curse."

ZZZ

The next morning De Soto fidgeted in his seat at the stand, hesitating. The auditor asked him again.

"Answer that question. Do you think Don Diego de la Vega is Zorro? Do you have any doubts that he could be Zorro?"

The alcalde looked at Diego. Their gazes found each other's. Diego's blue eyes were calmed, and trusting, encouraging him to answer as if he knew what he was about to say. But De Soto still didn't know himself. He struggled to choose which way to go. He wanted to cry out the shocking truth with a loud "YES!" but at the same time, he was too embarrassed to admit it, to acknowledge publicly he had been fooled by that man so many times. Besides, deep down, he admired Zorro, that man who had taken a beating for him by the Indians, who had saved him when he was left blind in unknown territory, and so many other times. If Zorro was a real criminal, it would never have happened, and De Soto could be dead by now. However, he had suffered a great deal of humiliation from that man as well, the last time only a few days ago at the plaza, and he could never forgive that so easily. Definitely, this was a dreadfully wrong time for him to grow a conscience. Only a few months ago he would not have hesitated for a second: he would have accused Diego to come back to Madrid as a hero.

The auditor looked at the papers in his hands, ruffling them quickly.

"According to this report, you searched for a man with a wound in his arm, and you checked the entire male population censed in Los Angeles, but you didn't find him. During that time, the alleged murderer Vladimir Volkov stated several times his belief that Diego de la Vega could be Zorro. Do you agree with that statement? Do you believe Don Diego de la Vega is Zorro?"

"No," he finally said, softly.

"I couldn't hear you. What did you say?"

"No!" De Soto repeated, firmly this time, still looking at Diego. "He can't be Zorro."

That was it. Tricked by his conscience he had missed the opportunity to shine, to be the one to capture the outlaw Zorro, his mission in life —or at least while in Los Angeles. He had missed the chance, probably for ever. And of top of that, he had said a white lie under oath.

"As much I would like to accuse someone, anyone, and finish the job I came here to do, I can't do that in this case. Diego de la Vega can't be Zorro."

The glint of a smile in Diego's eyes exasperated him, upset as he was with himself and his own weakness.

"Can I go now?" he asked roughly.

"Yes," the auditor answered, still writing notes, gesturing to the door. He thought the alcalde was lying, but he could not imagine what could be the reason for that. It didn't make sense at all. The alcalde stood up and stormed out of the tavern, flustered.

"See? I told you," Diego whispered to Cristina. "He couldn't do it."

ZZZ

"Don Diego de la Vega, please place your hand on the Bible. Remember that you are under Oath, not only before this Court, but before God Himself."

Diego placed his right hand over the thick old book again, slowly so he could stop it from shaking, showing a serenity that he didn't really feel.

"Now, answer this question: are you the outlaw that goes by the name of _Zorro_?"

Diego tried hard to follow Cristina's advice, to detach himself from that name, and admit the only truth he could acknowledge: that he was born Diego de la Vega, and no one else.

"No, I am not," he managed to say without his voice breaking.

"Can you repeat that statement, please?"

"I am not Zorro," he repeated, more firmly this time.

"Very well. Now, do you know who Zorro is, then? Do you know who is the person hiding behind that mask?" Diego hesitated. He was unsure how could he make that wording work in his favour this time. He looked at Cristina, who nodded with encouragement. But his mind was blank, and the area in his abdomen above his navel was twisting and twitching and it felt like a hard knot getting even tighter. There was no escape, unless…

"Please, answer the question. Do you know who Zorro is?"

"Yes, I do," he finally said, calmed.

The tavern quickly filled up with voices rumouring loudly. Other than Felipe and De Soto, Cristina was the only person in the public not commenting anything. She looked at the ceiling, and puffed in frustration. _Oh, Diego… Why? Why do you have to be like that?_

_ You idiot! _the alcalde thought. _I lied for you and now you are going to sell yourself!_

"Quiet!" the auditor ordered, shouting loudly with a voice so strong it didn't seem to emanate from his small body. Everybody stopped talking at once.

"Can you please tell me who that person is? Who is Zorro?"

"Yes, I know who Zorro is. Even if I don't know his real face, because he has been so clever to hide his real identity from us all, I know who he is." Diego paused for a moment, for effect. Everybody was quiet, awaiting his words with anticipation. "Zorro is a hero who fights for Justice. He is a friend of the weak and the oppressed, a friend of the innocent people of this pueblo who had been mistreated for so long. And I have the pleasure to call him my friend, too, even if I'll never truly know him." Mendoza nodded proudly then, as he felt exactly the same. "Am I Zorro? No, but I wish I could be like him. Sure."

"Tell me his name, if you know it."

"Well, his name is… _Zorro_."

All the public attending the hearing started clapping and cheering at Diego's words. Ernesto rolled his eyes, frustrated. He had thought for a moment he may have got a confession there, but it wasn't the case. Diego de la Vega was a clever man, who could twist the meaning of words in a similar way to himself.

"So, you honestly claim that you are not Zorro."

"Yes. I am not Zorro," Diego said, serene, with the firmest voice he could ever articulate, looking at the auditor with guilt-free, self-convinced eyes.

_God blind me! I may be mistaken then. But that would be a first, _the auditor thought. He had always trusted his gut instinct.

"Before you leave the stand, Don Diego, I want to remind you that perjury can carry an immediate Death Sentence. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to change your testimony? Do you know who Zorro is?" _Last chance_, _come on_.

"No, I don't want to change anything. I am not Zorro, and I don't know who he is either," Diego said. _Phew, this "bending the truth" is easier than I thought_.

ZZZ

"Doctor Hernández, please come up to the stand to testify again," the auditor said.

The doctor sat at the first row, beside Diego, also guarded by the alguaciles. He stood up and walked to the seat at the stand, where he swore on the Bible again.

"I hope you had plenty of time last night to reconsider your testimony, and your attitude."

"Yes, _señoría_, I had," the doctor said, compliant. He had been mentally training for this all night. After Cristina left, he had been practicing how to "bend the truth" with Diego. There were both lousy liars with Cristina's "different wording" technique, which didn't work for them. Until they realized it wouldn't really matter to God if they lied at the stand or not. Zorro wasn't a criminal. He would never burn in hell for his actions. He had been helping everybody fighting against injustice. Together, they could not recall any time when Zorro could have aggravated God, just the authorities and the alcalde. Jesus himself could have been proud of him, and probably ask him to lie so he could continue his work. Armed with this conviction, they relaxed. If everything else failed, they would resort to plain lying. Encouraged by Diego's excellent performance, the doctor assured himself he could do it as well.

"Good. In that case, I will ask you again: do you know who Zorro is?"

"No," he answered, trying to sound confident, successfully.

"I think you are lying. Remember you are under Oath."

"I don't know who Zorro is, I told you that yesterday. As a physician, I have my suspicions on several men, yes, but I don't know for sure."

"Is Diego de la Vega one of these men?"

"For a while, I thought he could be, as he is tall like him, with dark hair… But so is Don Francisco, and Gabriel Pérez, and Lorenzo Pardo…"

Doctor Hernández threw a few names there, randomly. Most of the men mentioned were present at the tavern and felt proud the doctor could consider them suspicious of being Zorro, and nobody complained about it.

"But now, I don't think Don Diego can be Zorro, because after treating him for his other injuries, I know he hasn't got that scar in his arm, the one the Russian talked so much about."

"That scar seems to be a recurring theme here. Don Diego, can you please remove your shirt so I can have a look at your shoulders?" the auditor said.

Diego nodded, stood up, and started unbuttoning his shirt. The day before, he had applied a generous amount of concealer over all of Zorro's scars, and that morning the doctor had retouched them a little, to make sure they could not be seen, at least from the distance. Diego's scars were still too obvious, in comparison. When he finished with the row of buttons at the front, he dropped the shirt to the back to uncover both shoulders without removing the shirt, which he carefully positioned so any staining from the concealer could not be seen on the white cloth. The scar from the gunshot wound in his abdomen was clearly visible.

"I don't have any scars in my shoulders. But I have one here," he said, pointing at his abdomen.

"Thank you. Please, put your shirt back on." _Yes, you don't have any scars on your shoulders, but you couldn't get so toned just reading books,_ _or I would not have this flabby belly myself._ Diego didn't have a scar in his upper arm, but that didn't mean anything to Ernesto. The Russian could have been bragging about causing a serious injury to Zorro, as they were alone and no one else could corroborate this.

"Thank you, doctor Hernández," the auditor said. The doctor went back to his seat on the front row, beside Diego, who smiled at him warmly.

"Nice _bending_, doctor," he whispered.

Running out of witnesses, the auditor looked at Padre Benítez, who sat among the public.

_No._ _Even if he knows, it would be a waste of time. He will use the secret of confession as an excuse_, he thought. Then he looked at Don Alejandro. _No, I can't call him either. He will say no to anything concerning his son. He may be in denial, anyway._

The auditor had no real evidence against Diego, so he could not press charges. Besides, whatever Don Diego de la Vega was, Zorro or not, he wasn't a criminal. Ernesto was sure of that. So, for the first time in his career, he decided to let it go. After all, it wasn't his problem. Zorro had never been directly involved with Navy affairs, anyway. The whole proceeding had been much shorter than he had anticipated, but he was keen to return to Monterey as soon as possible. No point on hanging out at Los Angeles chasing ghosts.

He called for a short recess then.

ZZZ

"After some consideration, I have concluded Vladimir Volkov killed Lieutenant Juan Ortiz accidentally, acting on his own, and nobody will be formally prosecuted for the Lieutenant's death," the auditor said. De Soto let go a long sigh, relieved.

"About the other issue that has arisen during this investigation: the possibility of Diego de la Vega impersonating the outlaw Zorro…"

Victoria awaited his words with anticipation. She felt like a fool, and didn't want to believe it. If Diego was Zorro, it would be a nice explanation on why she felt attracted to both, but she couldn't accept she had rejected both to end up a widow. For her, it simply could not be true.

"…There are not enough evidences to support this claim at this point."

Victoria, as the alcalde, also sighed deeply at the auditor's words.

"Please, Don Diego, don't get involved in any more duels or dubious activities conducted by criminals. The next time, let that job to the professionals," he recommended. "This provisional hearing Court is adjourned. You are all free to go."

People cheered happily, clapping, some of them in the second row tapping Diego's back to congratulate him. Don Alejandro stood up, with a broad smile in his face.

"Come on, Son. Let's go home. I had enough of this place for now."

ZZZZZ


	13. Chapter 13 - The Unexpected Gift

**Chapter 34 – The Unexpected Gift**

Over the next few weeks Zorro was unusually busy. Not so much thwarting the alcalde's mischievous plots as before, but chasing bandits and horse thieves. Nearly every week he appeared at Los Angeles to deliver a few to Sergeant Mendoza, who was delighted as his work load had been considerably reduced.

One afternoon, Don Alejandro had been visiting Victoria and little Alejandro at their new house. While walking back to the tavern together they spotted Zorro arriving at the pueblo. On his right hand the masked man held the reins of two horses, which carried a newly caught bandit each. The bandits lay on their stomach on their saddles, with their hands tightly tied at the back with rope.

"Zorro has been busy lately," Don Alejandro said.

"Yes, he has, hasn't he?" Victoria said.

"It's almost as if he had something to prove now. Maybe he feels ashamed that the auditor could have mistaken him with Diego," he chuckled, the same as Victoria.

The alcalde came out of his office with his loaded gun in his hand, and shot at Zorro, missing his target by far.

"Lancers! What are you doing! It's Zorro! Chase him! Shoot him!" he cried.

Zorro let go of the reins of the two horses he was driving, which Mendoza grabbed quickly as they were frightened by the commotion. They bolted, throwing the bandits to the ground. Zorro spurred Toronado and galloped off while some of the lancers shot their muskets at him.

"Alcalde!" Don Alejandro shouted. "How do you have the nerve of shooting Zorro when he is just helping you, doing the soldiers' job? _Your_ job, by the way."

De Soto gestured with his hand, dismissive, and came back to his office with a twisted, conniving smile that nobody spotted.

ZZZ

Zorro arrived at the cave in the late afternoon. He was disappointed as Felipe wasn't there. He took off his mask, hat and all his weapons, and then tended to Toronado, taking the bridle off. When he reached for the saddle, he groaned in pain with the effort to drag it down. He took off his shirt to check the nasty cut at his side, but he couldn't reach it, as it was nearly on his back, behind his left arm.

_Felipe, where are you?_ he thought, applying a cloth to the bleeding wound. He used his belt to hold the cloth in place and put on his white shirt, hoping the blood wouldn't show through.

Upstairs, he searched for Felipe, but he could not find him.

"Are you looking for Felipe?" Cristina said, suddenly appearing behind him.

"Yes. Do you know where he is?"

"He left with my father. He said he wanted to show him something. _Men's stuff_, he said. God knows what they are up to. Hopefully, nothing to do with prostitutes." She saw the hesitation in Diego's face. "What's wrong? Why do you need him? Can I help you?" Diego sighed.

"Yes, you can. But first, promise you won't get angry."

"What have you done this time?" she asked, narrowing her eyes, suspicious.

"Please?" he begged, with shy puppy eyes.

"All right. I won't get angry, I promise. What is it?" She lowered her voice then. "Zorro, isn't it?" Diego nodded sheepishly.

"Yes. I'll show you in the cave. Come on."

ZZZ

"What the hell, Diego! Again?" she cried when he removed the shirt, the belt and the cloth.

"You promised, remember?"

"Sorry, but, didn't I tell you to give up Zorro?" She went to collect some pieces of clean rags from the stack of medical supplies Diego had prepared, and a bowl with clean water. "Of course I told you, like a million times already. But you don't listen." She started to wash the wound, and Diego flinched with the contact with the cold water and the cloth. "What happened? This wound is deep. I can see the rib. Actually, if it was a bit lower down, you could have a nasty open wound into your abdomen. Your rib stopped the blade from digging any deeper."

"I guess I was lucky," he said, trying to sound unconcerned.

"_Lucky_? I know I promised not to get angry, but, please, don't push it."

"I don't know what happened. I had one of the bandits already tied up, and when I was dealing with the other one, he stabbed me. I don't know where he got that knife from, and how he managed to do that with his hands at his back. I wasn't expecting that at all. I'll have to be more careful the next time. Maybe I am getting old," he joked.

"You certainly aren't getting any younger," she snapped. She finished cleaning the wound, which had stopped bleeding by then. "This needs stitching. I should get Doctor Hernández."

"He is out of town for a couple of days. Do you think I would have shown you this to unleash your wrath if he was available? Not worth it," he joked again.

"Diego, seriously, you are killing me. All right, I'll do it. But it won't look pretty."

"It doesn't matter. I have the concealer."

She slapped the back of his neck, with a masterful _colleja._

"Shut up!"

ZZZ

A few days later the alcalde came into the Guardian's office, looking for Diego. He found him working on the next edition of the newspaper, sitting at his desk.

"Ah, there you are. Good. I have another job for you, my friend," he said, with his sly smile.

"What do you want now?" Diego huffed, fed up of the game.

"Luis Olmos _"El Gavilán"_ and his men had been spotted in Santa Paula. I think they are heading this way. I want you to capture them and bring them to me."

"All of them? There were five of them the last time. Maybe some more had joined them since. I can't do that. They are dangerous men." He hadn't recovered yet from his last injury, and he certainly didn't want to be maimed again. "Get the soldiers to chase them. And stop asking me to do your job! I am fed up of risking my life for you, for nothing."

De Soto's smile disappeared and his facial features hardened. He didn't like Diego's attitude, not at all. He approached Diego's desk and placed his hands on top of it, looking menacingly at Diego from above.

"You'll do as I tell you. You'll chase whatever bandits I tell you to chase, and you'll put yourself in danger whenever I tell you. And you will do all that because _I own you_, Diego."

"I did all that before for free. I helped you countless times. But I have a family now to take care of. I can't keep up with this," he complained, feeling helpless.

"I don't care what you have." De Soto paused and looked at his old school mate with glacial eyes. "I can change my mind whenever I want and have you arrested, and you'll never see your family again. You _owe _me this."

Diego felt trapped in that situation. Before, he was fighting crime and evil because of the goodness of his heart. Now he would have to do it under the alcalde's command.

"At least tell the lancers not to shot me. That would help."

"It doesn't matter. They are so incompetent, they'll never hit you."

"They did before, you know?"

"Did they? When?" the alcalde asked, intrigued. He couldn't imagine how that could have been possible without anybody realizing they had hit the target.

"They shot me in the back. Do you remember that time when I injured my shoulder? It wasn't dislocated. I was shot."

"How did you survive that?"

De Soto was mesmerized. Not only had Diego survived the duel with the German, and the Russian slicing his arm and cracking is skull open, he had also survived another gunshot wound he didn't even know about. That man wasn't a man, he was a Super-man like the mythical Achilles, and nobody had found his weak spot yet. Who would have thought?

"I don't know. Felipe took care of me. He removed the bullet."

"Felipe? Good grief! Not even the doctor?"

Diego shook his head.

"No, he didn't know my secret identity then."

"But he knows now?"

"Let's say he had figured it out, yes. It wasn't difficult for a clever physician to realize I had been injured many times before when he attended Diego's wounds."

"So, he lied at the hearing." De Soto looked disgusted.

"Don't be so uptight about it. So did you. And he didn't lie. He only bent the truth, a little," Diego explained, but De Soto was still unconvinced. "If he had said the truth, I would not be here helping you, and you could be in trouble also for perjury."

"Maybe. Probably not." He headed for the door. "I hope you trap these bandits as soon as possible, _Zorro_." He got outside and closed the door behind him, laughing evilly.

_ Of course. This afternoon, if you wish… After all, there is only five of them, _Diego thought, sulking. _Bastard._

ZZZ

Cristina was walking along the fields surrounding the Hacienda de la Vega to get some fresh air. Inadvertently, as often happened when she was on her own, her thoughts had drifted once again to her nemesis, Victoria. She knew her jealousy was completely unfounded, and that Diego would never be unfaithful to her. Still, Cristina could not help to be obsessed and consumed at the thought of the pair being together. It didn't help that every time she had tried to get close to him recently, for anything more than a cuddle, he had rejected her. A few months after giving birth, she was ready to have sex again, but he avoided her every time. She was so absent-minded with these thoughts she nearly stepped on a dead black bird which lay in the middle of the field. The poor creature was stiff on its back, and its abdomen was filled by a festering bunch of revolting maggots. Cristina was repulsed, but her troubled mind made a connection between the bird and Victoria's raven black hair, giving her an outrageous idea.

ZZZ

The Italian came into the tavern carrying a small parcel which had been carefully wrapped, with a fresh, beautiful red rose attached to the top. He looked around, and when he was sure nobody was looking in that direction, he left the parcel on the counter next to some dirty glasses, and left the tavern in a rush.

When she was about to get back to her horse, Cristina had second thoughts. What she was doing was mean, and she would certainly not like to be the recipient of such an unexpected gift herself. She came back to the tavern, but it was too late. Pilar had seen the parcel, and she was about to grab it.

"What is this doing here?" she said, lifting the parcel from the counter. "It is for you, Victoria. One of your old sweethearts trying again?" she joked. "Beautiful rose, though."

"What? A parcel? For me? Let me see," Victoria said, taking it from Pilar. "Yes, it is for me. Who left it there?"

"I don't know. I just saw it there right now. I don't think it has been at the counter for long. Open it. Come on."

The Italian moved slowly, stepping backwards, and exited the tavern again, unnoticed. He jumped on his horse in time to hear a horrified, disgusted shriek coming from the tavern, followed by the laughter of some of the customers, including some of the men whose advances had been rejected by Victoria at some point in the past.

ZZZ

Zorro was having trouble that afternoon. While searching for the _Gavilán's _band, the criminals had spotted him from the distance, and now they were chasing the chaser, keen to get the 6000 pesos reward on Zorro's head.

_I am getting too old for this shit. Definitely, _he thought while galloping hard, with bullets flying around him again.

ZZZ

Cristina, disguised as the Italian, was coming back home to the Hacienda de la Vega when she heard the gunshots. Intrigued, and suspecting Zorro could be involved somehow, she turned Perseo in that direction and spurred him to a fast gallop up the hill to her left. From there she could see Zorro running away, followed by six men armed with guns who were chasing him, shooting at him.

_Mierda._ Without much thinking, and armed only with her sword, she spurred her horse down the hill to follow them.

ZZZ

Toronado climbed up the granite rocks on a hill, gaining some distance over the other horses, not used to walk so fast on that kind of terrain. He was doing well, and Zorro thought they could make it safely to the top with plenty of time to escape to the cave before the others could follow, until a bullet ricocheted on the rock wall, grazing Toronado's rear. Spooked by the sudden pain, the horse lost his footing and slipped on the rocky soil. Horse and rider fell to the ground together, and rolled a few meters down the hill along the rocks. Zorro cried out in pain when he stopped at the bottom, hitting is injured flank against a boulder.

"He is down! He is down!" _El gavilán _cried, dismounting his horse quickly to approach Zorro on foot, discarding his empty gun to get his sword. The others followed him, climbing down their horses too.

Toronado stood up first, and neighed in pain when he stepped forward on his right fore. Zorro stood up too, ignoring his own pain, and reached for his whip.

"Get out of here!" he shouted to the horse, who obeyed promptly limping away, contrite for causing such a mishap.

Zorro used his whip to take the gun out of one of the bandits' hand, and then lashed against the first attacker, who was getting too close. The leader stepped back a little, sword in hand.

"Give up, Zorro! We are six of us against you!" he shouted. The attackers arched out surrounding Zorro, who was trapped in a small space against the wall, and would have to face the six men at the same time.

_At least, I won't be attacked from behind this time_, he thought, trying to find something positive about the hopeless situation.

Zorro took his sword on his left hand, wielding the whip on his right, and prepared to fend off the first attack. One of the bandits still had a loaded gun, which he lifted to aim at his target. Fast as lighting, Zorro lashed at the weapon when the attacker had already pressed the trigger. While pulling from it with his whip, the bullet hit the rocky wall a couple of inches from his head. Taking advantage of the distraction, another bandit attacked from the left, lunging. Zorro parried the attack with his sword, quite clumsily. Doctor Hernández had made a superb job fixing his injured left arm, but his fencing skills had never been the same since.

He cursed to himself and kicked that attacker off, dropping the whip and changing his sword to his right hand in mid-air, where it would be more useful, just in time to parry another attack coming from the right.

The Italian arrived at the scene when the leader closed in, preparing to attack Zorro from the middle, aiming at his right then vulnerable, unprotected torso.

"Drop you weapon! And call your men off!" Cristina ordered with the tip of her sword resting against _El Gavilan's_ nape. "Now!"

"Who the heck are you?" the leader asked, annoyed. He was about to achieve what nobody else had achieved before: capturing Zorro. And he didn't want to retreat.

"Your worst enemy. Pull off!" she repeated.

Zorro punched his attacker and knocked him off, leaving only five bandits to deal with. Making the most of the brief moment of distraction provided by Zorro, _El Gavilán_ turned quickly and hit Cristina's sword before she realized what was happening. The sword slipped of her hand with the hard blow. The bandit's leader then thrust against the unarmed Italian. Cristina had a split second to duck to avoid the blade, which passed over her body without even scratching her clothes. She then pushed his attacker off balance, and he fell over her to the ground. She scrambled from underneath his legs and tried to reach her sword, which lay out of reach. Another bandit turned to attack her and was about to stab her when Zorro's blade got on the way, parrying the thrust. Running out of patience, Zorro shamelessly used the Italian's technique and kicked that man in his groin. The bandit dropped to the ground howling in pain while holding his crotch.

"Watch out!" Cristina cried.

Zorro turned quickly to fend off the simultaneous attack of the remaining bandits, just managing to repel the three blades aimed at him. Cristina finally grabbed her sword in time to defend herself against the leader, who had got back on his feet and had turned to attack her again. She parried with ease, no longer caught off guard, and engaged on a fast interchange of furious thrusts with him, pondering how to neutralize him quickly. She could not use a punch like Zorro as she lacked the strength, and he seemed quite aware of his vulnerable parts to avoid sharing his partner's fate, keeping her out of kicking range. And even if she could disarm him, she could not trust him to comply and lay down. Then she made up her mind. He had been about to kill Diego, so he deserved it. At the first chance, she lunged at his chest. He gasped when her blade sank on the flesh and through the ribs surprisingly easily, hitting the bandit's heart and splitting the main blood vessels. She pulled off the blood-stained sword while _El Gavilán_ gaped at her, unbelieving his fate. He fell to the ground and died of the internal massive haemorrhage in seconds.

At the same time, Zorro disarmed one of the other bandits. Another one gave up and ran out to reach his horse. He jumped on it and galloped away as fast as he could. The last man standing dropped his sword and lifted his arms up when Cristina approached him with her red-stained blade.

_ Thank God is over! _ Diego thought, feeling weak all of a sudden, all his energy consumed by the strenuous fighting and the worry.

"What are you doing here?" he barked at Cristina instead of showing his concern and anxiety for her safety, confused as he was by his feelings.

"What do you think I am doing? Saving your arse!" she shouted back, also not keen to show her own worry, baffled by the events and by his attitude. While sorting out the bandits, they engaged in a verbal fight which puzzled the men on the ground.

"I told you not to come out as Zorro!"

"And what did I tell you about the Italian?"

Once all the men but the dead one had their hands securely tied at their back, Zorro pushed them up their horses onto their abdomen. He mounted the leader's horse, and they headed to the pueblo. On the way there, they kept shouting and arguing non-stop. Cristina waited nearby while Zorro delivered the bandits. After telling Mendoza the location of the dead body, Zorro re-joined Cristina to go back to the cave. He was happy the soldiers didn't shoot him this time, not to fuel even more Cristina's rage. They re-engaged in their argument, which lasted way after they reached the cave and Diego had finished tending for Toronado, who had damaged his right front leg badly. He had a nasty sprain, but it wasn't fractured. Diego applied a poultice to reduce the inflammation and bandaged it over. He also cleaned the wound at his rear, which was superficial and should heal without problems.

While they changed their clothes, both in their underwear, Cristina looked at him, shaking her head.

"Look at you. Look at the amount of wounds you have. Don't you have enough? I had enough, for both of us."

"Oh, shut up, will you? I —" He was interrupted by his father's call upstairs.

"Diegooooo… Where are you?"

"Arghhh! I forgot. Don Manuel is coming for dinner tonight." He sniffed his armpits, and shrugged his shoulders, putting his white shirt on. "No time for a wash, come on, hurry up."

Cristina finished washing her face to erase any marks of the Italian, and joined Diego at the bottom of the stairs.

"Diegooooooo," Don Alejandro called again. Diego checked through the spy hole and opened the door of the secret passage.

"We'll talk more about this later. Come on, let's go upstairs," he said. Cristina followed him, sulking.

"You bet."

ZZZZZ


	14. Chapter 14 - The Good Wife's Work

**Chapter 35 – The Good Wife's Work**

The couple had to endure a boring dinner that night, counting the minutes to the moment they could excuse themselves to retire to their room for the night. When they finally did, they had both calmed down to be able to have a more civilized conversation. Once in their room, out of hearing range from anyone else, Diego apologized first.

"I am sorry for shouting at you before, but I was so worried you were going to get hurt I couldn't think straight. Thank you for saving my life again."

"I am sorry too, Diego. When I saw those six men chasing you I thought that was it; that you would not come out of that alive. I was so worried about you. But I can't help shouting at you, because you make me so angry when I see you risk your life unnecessarily. And I can only blame you for that, sorry."

"Please, Cristina, I beg you. Don't you ever put yourself in danger like this again. I don't know what I would do if you ever get badly hurt. I can't take it. When you nearly died giving birth to Sofía I nearly lose my mind. Please, promise that you will give up the Italian."

"Sorry, Diego. I can't promise that because you don't want to give up Zorro either. I love you too much. I'll die for you if I have to."

"But you are a mother now. Think about Sofía. What would happen to her if you get seriously injured one day? She needs you."

"In that case, she also needs a father. What would happen to her if _you_ get injured?"

"She will still have a mother to take care of her in that case," Diego said, stubborn. "And my father would help you, and your parents."

_How can I make you understand that I really don't want to do this? That is De Soto's fault, because he knows?_ He was too ashamed of himself to have fallen into that trap, and he could not tell her the truth. He was too proud.

"What do you mean then? That you are _expendable_? And I am not?"

"Cristina, seriously, please. Focus. Think about it. Zorro has a job to do, and if we both get killed, God forbids, she'll be an orphan. If not for me, or for yourself, do it for her; give up the Italian. Please."

"Diego, you are manipulating me now. You are playing with my feelings. It's not fair."

"Call it what you want, but promise you won't put yourself in danger anymore, even to help me."

"Very well. I promise that, unless exceptional circumstances arise, I'll give up the Italian. He won't appear in Los Angeles any more. However, as I said, if you ever get caught, or injured, or you put yourself in a situation where there is no other way to help you but to become the Italian, I won't keep that promise."

"Let's hope we never get to that point then."

"Yes. Now, forget about this conversation and all that shouting. Kiss me."

Diego looked at her with wide eyes, surprised by her urgency.

"You have been avoiding me for too long. Kiss me," she repeated. "Now."

At her command, Diego leaned forward and searched for her lips. Their discussion made them very eager to make up, and to regain that neglected, deep, intimate contact between them, so they desperately clung to each other. They had not been intimate since Cristina gave birth, but soon, their forgotten passion took over and pieces of clothing were removed in haste, left discarded on the floor. When they got in bed, their naked bodies enjoyed the contact with the soft silk of the new luxury sheets recently brought from Spain, and especially, the warm skin of each other. While kissing her all over during their brief, rushed, and hectic fondling, Diego had pushed his deepest fears to the back of his mind, ignoring them, but, when he was about to make love to her, he recovered his senses and pulled back.

"Love me," Cristina said, panting with desire.

"No, I won't risk it. I could not live with myself if I kill you this way. Remember what the doctor said: _under no circumstances you should get pregnant again_."

"I know, but… I know you want to."

"Of course I do. There is nothing else I wish more in my life. But I won't risk it, ever."

She looked so disappointed he had to laugh.

"Don't worry. I think there are a few more ways than that." He smiled mysteriously and disappeared under the sheets. Soon, Cristina was wriggling and giggling.

"Oh, Diego, stop it!" she said, laughing hysterically, although she didn't really mean it.

ZZZ

That night, with all that accumulated sexual tension finally released, and due to the extreme exhaustion he felt after all that strenuous physical activity and the stress he had suffered during the chase and the fighting, Diego slept better than he had done for a very long time. However, in the early hours, before dawn, he talked loudly in his sleep, waking Cristina up.

_ "Ignacio, leave me alone. I can't do that!"_

He struggled under the sheets, pushing them away, shaking his head on the pillow, sweating.

"What? You can't do what?" Cristina said, still half asleep.

_ "Cristina doesn't like it. She wants me to stop."_

"What I don't like? What are you talking about?" she asked, sitting up, fully awake now. She looked at him in the semi-darkness of twilight, and she realized he was dreaming some kind of a nightmare that was troubling him greatly.

_ "You don't own me, Ignacio. You don't own me,"_ he mumbled. She was puzzled by his words, and tried to make sense of them. After some consideration analysing them, she came to the right conclusion.

_ Is the alcalde, isn't he? He is blackmailing you to act as Zorro all the time now. That's why you have been so busy and careless lately._ She felt suddenly enraged, aggressive like a lioness defending her cubs. _How dare he put you in danger like that? How dare he attempt to ruin my family?_ She continued listening intently, looking at him. She couldn't refrain herself from tenderly caressing his forehead, combing his rebellious fringe back with her fingers.

_ You poor man. Why do you always have to carry the weight of the world over your shoulders? Why didn't you tell me?_ she thought, leaning over to kiss his now hair-free, but still sweaty forehead. With the contact, he turned on his side and continued sleeping, still agitated and shaking. In the first light of the morning, she could clearly see the large bruising Diego had around his wound on his side, where he had collided with the boulder. She touched it lightly and he flinched, but he didn't wake up. _This has to stop. Now. _

"I'll take care of this. Don't you worry, _mi amor_," she whispered to his ear. He mumbled some unintelligible words and continued sleeping, relaxed now, the nightmare over.

Sofía started wriggling in her cot, complaining of hunger. Cristina got her out and offered her daughter her breast. The little girl took it quite happily, half asleep, and sucked for a while until she was satisfied. Cristina put her back in her cot and soothed her so she would go back to sleep. Then, she got out of bed and looked around, standing in the middle of the room, hesitating for a moment. If she hurried up, she would probably have time before Diego would wake up.

Cristina didn't take long to break the promise she had made to her husband only a few hours ago.

ZZZ

"Alcalde, you may have found out Diego's secret, but you don't know _who I am_. If you don't leave him alone, if you insists that _il mio caro amico_ Diego must be your slave, a puppet you can use as you wish to do your job for you, then I'll be back to teach you a lesson," the Italian said, aiming his sword at De Soto's neck.

The alcalde had been surprised in his quarters while sleeping in bed, and he had woken up to a vision of that odd Italian he hadn't seen around the pueblo in months, urging him to stop using Zorro at his convenience. He was surprised the Italian knew Zorro's identity, but after all, he had been helping him before and he claimed to be his friend. The alcalde looked at his sword, but it was out of reach, leaning against the wall, in a corner of the room. Cristina followed his gaze, and smiled as he was so easy to read.

"Remember that day at the tavern? You didn't last five seconds against my sword. _Dai, fammi un favore!_ Get your sword!" she said, stepping back to give him space to reach his weapon.

"I'll have you arrested," he menaced with empty words, not moving an inch to reach the sword, annoyed.

"How? Why? On which grounds? There are no crimes you can pin on me. What would you say? That you are arresting me because I am a much better swordsman than you? Don't be _ridicolo, per favore_.

"What do you want from me exactly?"

"As I said: that you leave Diego alone. He has always been helping the pueblo, and you, when he could or it was necessary. It is not fair that your push him now to do the soldiers' job all the time. Besides, he's got a family now to take care of. And he is no longer as young, or as strong and fast as before, or have you forgotten he has been seriously injured so many times recently? His left arm has never been the same," she said, circling around the alcalde's bed with her sword up again. "Me, on the other hand, I am still young, and fast, and strong, and I haven't been injured and I have no intention to start now," she said, doing a fast movement with her sword in the air, which swished until it stop pressing with the tip on the alcalde's throat.

"The German nearly drowned you. I am sure he cracked your ribs too."

She laughed that comment off.

"Nah, he didn't. And don't you see? Zorro helped me then. I owe him. So, don't you ever again order him to help you, or I will be back. You have been warned." With these words, she walked out of the room before De Soto could even try to move out of bed.

The Alcalde was puzzled, and deeply annoyed, as this petition was extremely inconvenient for him. Soon, as everybody already knew, Mexico would inevitably declare its independence from Spain, and he would be deported back to Madrid with only his service history to show off. He didn't have much time to improve his record, because sure as hell, he could not become a Mexican citizen when the time came to swear allegiance to the new Mexican government. As he never got to find Zorro, at least officially, now he was earning a few points and gold stars thanks to him. And now the blooming Italian wanted to stop such a wonderful arrangement! However, as much as he would like to ignore his warning, he better be careful with Leonardo. According to Vladimir, he was the one that had shot his brother dead; and the bandits had described someone quite similar to the Italian coming to help Zorro the day before, and that man had killed _El Gavilán_ stabbing his heart without any remorse. De Soto had always felt Zorro would not seriously harm him, a feeling that made total sense when he found out it was Diego behind the mask. But the Italian was different. He better took him seriously.

_"Maldito Italiano!"_ he cursed, mumbling enraged, furiously hitting his mattress with his fist.

Cristina got outside and jumped on Perseo, who was patiently waiting for her by the door, and disappeared galloping towards the rising sun. She didn't have time to cover his white marks with the black paint, so she had to get out of the pueblo quickly before someone would recognize her horse.

She managed to go back to bed just before Diego woke up. And then, when he did, she feigned a headache so she could stay in bed most of the morning, happy in the knowledge that Zorro would not be riding unnecessarily anymore and that Diego could keep his pride intact.

ZZZZZ


	15. Chapter 15 - What? You?

**Author's notes: **One of my faithful reviewers (you know who you are, thanks) asked me to post the next chapter, which I wrote a while ago, immediately. I was going to post it tomorrow, to keep to my self-imposed rule of one chapter a day if they are available, but hey, who said I have to keep to the rules? Let's bend the rules too, like all these "benders" in my story. I love bending rules, the truth, whatever, ha ha. (no slang meanings here, don't get excited)

It is Valentine's so you can have another chapter posted, my friend. Enjoy! XXX

This is my favourite chapter so far. Itching to read your reviews on it. Come on, silent readers, say something!

Thank you very much to all the ones who already left their kind comments. It means a lot to me. Thanks. And keep reviewing!

**...**

**Chapter 36 – What? You?**

"I have something for you," said Diego, approaching Cristina when she was in the library reading a book in the comfiest chair. Little Sofía played quietly with her toys in her playpen, close to her. When she saw her father, she pulled herself up holding onto the bars, and called for his attention with her little arms flapping up and a big smile on her face.

"Pa-Pa!" she called. Diego lifted his daughter high up in the air, shaking her, and the little girl screamed and giggled, delighted.

"Hello, my little princess!"

A few months had passed since the last time Zorro had been required by the alcalde, and no one had seen the Italian since. Zorro still rode to help the farmers and had been involved in some minor conflicts, but life had been easy for him recently, out of danger, and family life had become the most important thing for the De la Vegas.

"What is it? And, equally important, _where is it_?" asked Cristina, because he was empty handed.

"It is a surprise. It is in my _private_ room," he said with a cheeky twinkle in his eyes. "You'll like it. Let me get Sofía down for siesta first, and I'll show you." He left the room with the little girl kicking and laughing, held balanced on her abdomen over his broad shoulder.

Half an hour later Cristina followed him through the fireplace's secret entrance. Once in the cave, she still didn't have a clue. She couldn't see anything new.

"So?"

"I told you to give up the Italian, but I know you love to play with a sword too much. To keep you happy, I got all this training material so we can have fun by ourselves. This way, you can keep up with your fencing skills without the risk of serious injury. And maybe you can teach me something. You'll love that." He rummaged under the table looking for something. When he stood up, he threw a fencing mask to a surprised Cristina. "There you go! I could not forgive myself if accidentally poke one of your beautiful eyes out."

Cristina caught the sturdy mask in mid-air, and looked at it from every angle with a disgusted face.

"I am not wearing this."

"Yes, you are. If I am worried that I am going to hurt you, I won't give hundred per cent, and then you'll never now if you actually beat me." He was sure he could win her over with that argument.

"All right, maybe, then. I don't want you to be gentle on me, so no pulling back."

"And I got brand new practice swords and protective padded clothing for every part of our bodies. The swords are very flexible but still strong, and blunt." He continued producing items from under the table. Cristina tried the mask, and grabbed one of the swords, which she whizzed around immediately trying a few moves.

"All right, I like it. Thank you. Do you want to give it a try?"

"Now?"

"Why not? Do you have anything else better to do right now? Any peasants about to be flogged? Any bandits to catch? No? And Sofía will be asleep for a while. Come on, then. Show me what you got," she teased, pretending to attack, placing the blunt tip of the sword over Diego's heart. He smiled, pushing the tip of the sword away with his index finger.

"All right. Get some protective clothing on. I was going to help my father with the new cattle, but that can wait a little."

"I don't need it. I'll change into the Italian clothes. The waistcoat is already padded."

"Please, put some padding on your torso under it. I don't want to damage Sofía's milk suppliers," he said, with a cheeky wink.

"You wish. You'll never get so close to them. At least, not with a sword," she teased back, laughing.

ZZZ

"Diego!" called Don Alejandro. "Where are you now? I need you to brand the new cattle, remember? We are waiting for you." _How does he manage to always disappear when I need him most? _He came into the library, but nobody was there. He turned around to leave, but then he stopped at the door, confused, aware of a fainted but audible tinkling metallic noise, somehow rhythmic. The old don came back to the library, trying to locate the source of the noise, his ears working as the equivalent to a well-trained hound's sniffing nose. The noise stopped, and Don Alejandro stood in the room for a few seconds, still listening intently. "_There must be my elderly ears; they are not what they used to be._ _I am imagining things,"_ he mused to himself. He shrugged his shoulders and headed for the door, but he stopped in his tracks when the noise started again. "_What the_…" Annoyed now, he searched around the room: behind the furniture; by the window; over the piano; along the books on the shelves; walking along the walls with the side of his head and right ear resting on the plaster... It sounded like… "_swords? How odd."_ The noise was a bit louder when he stood close to the fireplace. He stuck his head in there, and it was definitely louder. At that moment, Felipe walked into the library. His face twisted in an alarmed grimace when he saw Don Alejandro so close to the secret entrance to Zorro's cave.

"Oh, Felipe. Look, come here," called Don Alejandro, gesturing with his hand. Felipe walked slowly toward the fireplace, his eyes wide open with uncertainty. "Listen. Can you hear that?"

Felipe could hear the swords, of course, and in his agitated state, without thinking, he nodded slowly. But Don Alejandro, ashamed of his own mistake, seemed to have missed Felipe's.

"Oh. Sorry, Felipe, of course you can't hear it. Sorry, I forgot. Forgive me," he apologized, placing his hand in the youngster's shoulder. "It sounds like _swords_. Can you imagine? Clinking swords, and it's coming from the fireplace." He placed his hands on the mantel piece, and touched lightly and carefully all around the surface, while Felipe watched him in horror, unable to do anything else but stand there, frozen. Maybe it was meant to be this way; the poor man should find out the deception sooner or later. "I vaguely remember there is a mechanism to open a door to a secret passage. My father showed me when I was young, but I forgot where it is." His hand got dangerously close to the spot, and Felipe closed his eyes, hoping Don Alejandro would miss it. When he heard the click, Felipe knew it had happened. Everything was about to change. He sighed and opened his eyes in time to see the secret door flung open.

"There! I knew it was around here somewhere." The clink-clank of the swords could be heard clearly now, together with some laughter. Don Alejandro grabbed one of the pistols he always had ready in a wooden casket in the library, high up in a shelf out of reach from little hands, already loaded in case of urgent need, and gestured to Felipe. "Let's find out what's going on. Don't be afraid, that sword and whoever is holding it is not a match for my pistol."

"_That's what you think,"_ thought Felipe, following behind. "_He surely is."_

ZZZ

Cristina had the upper-hand. She had jumped onto the table and was able to reject all of Diego's advances, laughing at his frustration. Suddenly, she spotted Don Alejandro at the bottom of the stairs, and froze in the middle of a feint, her previous movement to prepare a quick unstoppable attack. Diego, with his back to the stairs, wasn't aware of his father's presence, and, with Cristina's hesitation, took the opportunity to lounge and hit her upper abdomen lightly with his blunt-pointed practice sword.

"_Touché!_" he screamed, delighted. He quickly took his protective mask off, showing a broad smile, wondering why she wasn't moving or taking hers off, until he turned around in the direction she was looking at. Father and son locked their gazes, unbelieving what was happening.

"Diego! What is this? What's going on?" asked Don Alejandro, walking into the cave, pistol in hand still held high. Bewildered, his gaze travelled around the room until his eyes rested on the hanger, where Zorro's clothes were on display. He gasped, unwilling to believe them, until his stupefied eyes also spotted Toronado in his stall. The stallion neighed softly, like welcoming him to the Fox's lair. Then, Don Alejandro turned his gaze back to Diego, who hadn't moved an inch.

"You! YOU!" he pointed at his son with a shaky hand. "You…" He seemed to stop breathing, and his right hand dropped the pistol as if he had lost all his strength. Don Alejandro looked like about to have a heart attack, unable to cope with the discovery. Cristina finally reacted out of her own shock, and jumped down from the table, removing her mask while approaching her father in law, dropping her practice sword on the ground. He looked at her as if he had seen a ghost. "And… YOU? _You_? You also…?" he gasped for air now, like a fish out of water, until his lungs took over and he started hyperventilating. Cristina placed her hand in his upper arm to take him to the table, and he followed her like a lost child. He sat down at Diego's chair, unresponsive. After a few seconds of blankness his shocked brain started to react, the first of his emotions an uncontrollable rage caused by such deception.

"How could you do _this_ to me?! How could you be lying to your own father for so many years?! You lied to me; you lied to the auditor at the hearing… You lied to everybody! You were under oath then, for Christ sake! You even lied to God!" He stood up, his face turning red. Diego's face was the opposite, turning paler, with his mouth open trying to say something, but words could not find their way out. "Did you enjoy it, laughing in your father's face every time you ran away with excuses, hiding in here? Did you take me for a _fool_?!" Then he remembered his words at the hearing: _"My son cannot possibly be Zorro –I would have known. He would not have been able to hide that from me."_ And that's exactly how he felt. Like a fool. The greatest fool on Earth. He kicked Diego's sturdy chair, which toppled over and crashed to the ground with a loud noise that startled Toronado.

"Please, calm down, Don Alejandro," pleaded Cristina, laying a hand in his forearm again. "I am sure Diego can explain everything if you give him a chance." But Don Alejandro shook his arm away from her and continued shouting while pacing the room. He spotted Felipe at the bottom of the stairs, and he realized he was not shocked by the revelation, but shocked at his anger. "And _you_! You knew about this too, didn't you? How dared you keep such a secret from me if you knew! I can't stand the sight of you! Of _any_ of you three!" he continued yelling random angry thoughts for a while until he started to calm down, his emotions evolving.

"I just can't believe this, Diego. Why could you not trust me? Why you didn't tell me? You let me believe that you were a weak man, a wimp with no desire to fight for justice. You made me feel ashamed of my own son…" His mind was racing thinking on all the times he had felt like that, of all the times he had thought Diego was a coward, and of all the times he had call his son that awful word while he made excuses to stay behind… _to be able to come out disguised as Zorro_, Don Alejandro realized of that now, too late. He carried on, his voice much softer, trembling now. "You made me call you a _coward._ I felt so disappointed then. I even called Zorro a coward when he didn't showed up to face the Russian… but how could that had been possible, if you were so sick, with a fractured skull… I am so sorry, I… I…" Tears came down his cheeks, a pathetic sight that made Diego finally react. He approached his father and embraced him in a tight hug. Don Alejandro clung onto his son, sobbing, releasing all the tension and anger, dissolving in an emotional meltdown. His son was Zorro! He was so proud and ashamed at his own blindness, all happening at the same time, he could not cope with it. He remembered that occasion when he had told his son: _"Diego, don't embarrass yourself by trying to imitate Zorro."_ How unnecessary was that? Now, he was the embarrass one for all the times he had used this kind of hurtful comments to put Diego down.

"Don't be sorry, Father. I am the one who should apologize. I am the one who should be sorry. And I am, deeply." His voice started trembling as well, but he managed to hold back the tears by hugging his father even tighter. "I am sorry I could not tell you before, but I wanted to keep you safe. And, after a while, I didn't know how to tell you. I was afraid you would react as you have, with anger."

"I am not angry at you, Diego," said Don Alejandro, breaking the embrace to be able to look into his son's eyes. "I am angry at myself. I am angry because I have been so blind, and so callous. For all the things I said, all those horrible things that…"

"It doesn't matter," said Diego. "Don't worry about that. I know you didn't mean them."

"But I did, Diego, _I did_. You have to forgive me."

"As long as you forgive me for the deception, and then we can carry on with a new chapter in our lives." Father and son united again in another comforting hug, while Cristina and Felipe looked at each other sighing, deeply relieved all that tension had been soothed away. When they parted, Alejandro patted his son's strong shoulder and then rinsed his tears, nodding with a new spark in his eyes and the hint of a cheeky smile. Anger, grief and shame gave way to pride, and then curiosity took over.

"I can't believe this! It can't be true that all this has been going on under my nose for several years, and I never suspected a thing!" he exclaimed looking around the cave, in awe. He was swollen with pride when he realized how clever his son had been to keep them all safe. "Toronado! How are you, old boy?" he said, happily patting the horse's neck. He continued looking around, touching objects in the lab, Zorro's cloths and weapons, and everything else, amazed like a child in a candy shop.

"So, you have to tell me all about it. How does it feel to wear this mask?" he asked, taking it from the rack to try it on, along with Zorro's hat, laughing.

"You look great," said Cristina. Don Alejandro turned his attention to her. She was wearing the Italian's signature outfit: white shirt, blue waistcoat, leather trousers and high boots. He could accept that Diego could be Zorro, but _this_… this was too much. The mother of his granddaughter could not possibly be a skilled, naughty, _male_ foreign swordsman.

"And you, my dear. How can you be that crazy Italian? How can that even be possible? I am feeling too old and out of touch with reality right now. From now on, you two will drive me insane, I know that." He approached Cristina and held her at arm's length. "Just look at you. _Unbelievable_. Totally unbelievable," he added, shaking his head. "Anything else I should know? Anything else you have been keeping from me?" He turned around and faced Felipe. "You? Have you got anything to say?" Felipe smiled, nervously, and lowered his head while nodding. "Yes? What is it?" asked Don Alejandro.

"Yes, there is something else we have been hiding from you and everybody else. Felipe can hear," said Diego approaching Felipe, laying a protective arm over his shoulders. The youngster looked up, with an embarrassed smiled, afraid of Don Alejandro's reaction.

"No! Really? But… that's fantastic! I am so happy for you, Felipe!" he exclaimed, rushing to his side to hug him, still wearing Zorro's mask and hat. "I see, that's why you nodded by the fireplace, when I asked you if you could hear the swords. You, cheeky rascal!" he said, ruffling his hair to a mess. "Can you talk too?" Felipe shook his head.

"Don't be modest, Felipe. He had managed the occasional word. I think with a bit of time and patience, he would be able to speak again," said Diego.

"My, my, what a day this is! Anything else?" asked Don Alejandro, taking off the hat and mask and placing them back on the rack.

"Actually, there is…" said Diego mysteriously. They all looked at him, expectantly. "Toronado here can dance, sing, and play the violin." They all laugh at the joke, but Alejandro felt that after all the news, he would not be surprised it that turned out to be true.

ZZZZZ


	16. Chapter 16 - Serious Talking

**Chapter 37 – Serious Talking**

Over the next few weeks, Don Alejandro had lengthy conversations with his son. Following his initial enthusiasm at the cave when he found out Diego's secret, right after his primal response of explosive rage had dissipated, there were times when the old don could not control his disturbingly strong emotions. Feelings of anger, shame and guilt would flare up repeatedly, over and over, alternating in a constant rotating vortex that took a long time to settle. Some issues would make his anger go off again, or make him sink in a dull depression for a while. When he struggled, he had to confront his son about it. Today's issue was Diego's clandestine behaviour with Victoria.

"How could you behave like that, son? I don't understand," said the old don, shifting in his armchair at the library, unsettled as if he had a bunch of fleas biting him all over. Diego, by contrast, was as calmed and composed as he could be, as he had learnt quite early on in the game that it was pointless to become upset by the constant grilling. "_Here we go again_," he thought, bracing himself for the lecture.

"If you loved Victoria, why didn't you tell her? I mean, as you, as _Diego_. There was absolutely no need to court her as an outlaw! That was a disgraceful behaviour coming from a caballero, especially from a De la Vega. How could you do that?" he asked with his voice rising, a sign of an impending outburst. Diego sighed deeply. "_Yes, indeed, how could I?"_

"Father, it's complicated."

"Complicated?!" he shouted, losing it. "It is dead simple, Diego: you like a woman; you court her; you tell her you love her; you ask her to marry you; and end of story! You don't go about courting a woman while your face is covered by a mask, and visit her at night climbing up windows!"

"Nothing improper ever happened in those occasions," said Diego, trying to defend himself, a very difficult task.

"That's what you say. But how could I know for sure? How could anybody else in the pueblo know for sure, either? Didn't you hear the constant talk about Victoria before she got married to Juan, and even afterwards? I had to defend her many times at the tavern when I heard those hurtful vile comments. The gossip went on even after she'd left Los Angeles. You dragged her reputation through the mud, son." Diego didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. He had never been proud of himself in that matter. It just happened that way. "Why didn't you court her as Diego? Why didn't you tell her you loved her?" He waited for a reply, his eyes fixed on Diego's.

"I was afraid," he finally said, averting his eyes in shame.

"Afraid? Of what?"

"Of rejection, Father. She loved the hero, but she didn't love quiet Diego. I trapped myself in that situation right from the beginning, when I created Zorro after coming back from Spain. And then I blew it, big time."

"What do you mean _you blew it_? What did you do?" Diego stood up and paced the room, trying to find a way to express his thoughts coherently.

"I visited her as Zorro and I advised her to get married to someone else, to look for a husband before it was too late, as she wanted to start a family so much. I suggested _me_, Diego, but I don't think she even registered that name, because we were interrupted by the alcalde, as usual, and I had to leave in a rush. Then, as Diego, I went to the tavern to tell her I loved her, but she was busy at the time and she couldn't talk to me. So I didn't tell her." He continued pacing, deep in thought remembering the events.

"And?"

"I was shot in the back, through the chest, and I couldn't tell her on time. She took my advice, but she married Juan instead. She left Los Angeles while I was sick, unconscious and unaware of what was happening."

"You were shot before? When? How?" Guilt started to creep up again, and it mixed with his anger to dilute it.

"Do you remember that time when I fell off Esperanza on a trip to Santa Paula and damaged my shoulder? I didn't go to Santa Paula. I was shot by the soldiers, and Felipe took care of me for a week at the cave."

"What? Who took the bullet out?"

"Felipe did."

"_What?"_ The guilt and shame overflowed then, when he remembered how cross he had been with Diego at that time, thinking he had gone out for a week on a pleasure trip to visit a prostitute in Santa Paula. Don Alejandro didn't know Diego had been fighting for his life down in the secret basement. And Felipe, at his young age, had had all the responsibility over his shoulders. And all of that to keep the secrecy, so Don Alejandro and all the others could be safe. "Diego, I slapped your shoulder when you came back home," he mumbled, deeply ashamed, shaking.

"Yes, you did. That was bloody painful, thank you."

"But… but…" Don Alejandro was flabbergasted. He had started the conversation telling Diego off, but now he felt too miserable to continue. He didn't know what to say. "I am sorry."

"Never mind. So, please, stop telling me off about Victoria, I beg you. That wound has never healed completely, and I don't mean the gunshot. Besides, if I had married Victoria, your granddaughter Sofía would not have been born, and neither would have little Alejandro, your pride and joy. And I love Cristina so much now. I am not proud of what I did to Victoria, but it is in the past, so let it be, please." Don Alejandro nodded, sheepishly.

"Yes, Diego. I won't mention this again."

"Good." Diego left the room, leaving a bewildered Don Alejandro behind.

ZZZ

Another day, the conversation spiraled around the issue of lying under Oath. Don Alejandro stormed into the library and sat heavily down in the armchair in front of his son, who was quietly reading his latest addition to the bookcase.

"I have been thinking about the hearing, Diego," he started, upset again, not quite shouting but nearly there.

"So?" said Diego, closing his book. He left it on the side table and sighed, shaking his head a little. He sat still, looking at his father crossing his hands over his lap, waiting for the next outburst.

"How could you lie under Oath at the hearing? Not that I am not glad you did, somehow, otherwise you would probably be dead by now, but, how could you do it _so well_? And Cristina, she also lied without any remorse, over God's name! Can you explain me _that_? Diego, I think you are both going to hell!" he barked.

"No, we are not," said Diego, quietly. "Don't worry about that."

"How do you know? Swearing to say the Truth over the Bible is sacred, Diego."

"Yes, but we didn't lie. We only bent the truth a little. Cristina is very clever; she made me realize it could be done easily, just imagining a different wording for the auditor's questions. For example, when he asked me if I am Zorro, I could easily say "no", because I am Diego de la Vega and Zorro doesn't actually exist."

"That doesn't make sense to me, son."

"Well, it did for us. And, as you said, I'm very glad it turned out so well, or I wouldn't be here."

"I am not convinced, Diego. You are talking nonsense. You lied, boldly, and I can't understand how you can be such a good liar. Adding to that your deception to me all these years it's not helping your case, son." Don Alejandro crossed his arms over his chest, still angry, sulking.

"Can you relax a little, please? Don't worry about such things. Nothing is going to happen. Talking to doctor Hernández, we realized that even if I'd lie to the auditor it didn't matter, because Zorro had done nothing wrong against God's law. He is not a criminal."

"When did doctor Hernández find out you are Zorro? Did he know at the hearing? Was he lying too?"

"Yes, he knew. He found out the day after my wedding, because he realized my arm was injured, but he had his suspicions for a while before that day. Not that you realized at all, you and Don Francisco, after you slapped my arm so many times at my wedding day, as everybody else did, and then you _blanketed_ me like Sancho Panza," said Diego, resentful, opening the flood gates of guilt again for his father.

"What? You were injured at your wedding?" He remembered how pale and unwell his son had looked that day, and then how he had fainted after the practical joke with the blanket, before he retired for the night.

"Yes, I had that infamous wound in my arm; the one the Russian insisted should have left a huge scar, which it did, by the way."

"So you _do_ have that scar."

"Yes, I do."

"Can I see it?" Diego showed him his left shoulder.

"But you didn't have it at the hearing! And it's huge!" exclaimed Don Alejandro, baffled.

"I have been using a special concealer to cover all the scars for a while now."

"What?" Don Alejandro was deeply confused again. The more he asked Diego about his secret life as Zorro, the more he thought maybe it would be better not to unravel the mystery to gain so much information. Definitely, knowing wasn't helping to make him feel any better. Every question answered by Diego left an open door to so many other questions that he'd started to think knowing wasn't worth the pain.

ZZZ

"How many times have you been injured, Diego?" Don Alejandro asked a few days later, when his guilt and shame levels were up again.

"According to Cristina, way too many," he joked, lightly. Diego was at the garden, tending to his roses, and he continued his pruning task while his father talked.

"How could you go through all that on your own? Why didn't you tell me, so I could have taken good care of you?"

"We talked about that before. I thought it was better to keep you safe by not getting you involved at all."

"But, can you understand how bad I feel now, because I didn't help you?"

"Of course you helped me. To be honest, other than the shot at the back that Felipe sorted out so efficiently, most of the other serious injuries happened to Diego lately, and you were there." Diego pricked his left index finger on the thorns. "Ouch!" he complained, shaking his hand. A single drop of blood appeared at the pierced skin immediately. "Don't beat yourself up about it, please," said Diego, tapping his father's shoulder. This wasn't enough to comfort him, so he passed his right arm over his shoulders and hugged him from the side, shaking him lightly. "Besides, do you remember what happened when I gave my blood to Cristina? You fainted." He placed his bleeding finger in front of his father's eyes. "You can't stand blood and guts," he joked. Don Alejandro elbowed his son, embarrassed, wriggling out of his embrace.

"Shut up. Of course I do. I am a soldier."

Diego left his father alone with his thoughts again, chuckling on his way back to the house.

ZZZZZ

**Author's notes: **I hope you liked this little sample of what the aftermath of the reveal could have been for Don Alejandro and Diego. There are so many questions and "issues" I could have chosen from for these talks, that if I tried to cover them all the word count for this fanfic would go through the roof high up into the sky. And it is already high enough to put people off. So, I will leave it there, and continue with the story.

As usual, if you liked it, please review. I know there is no "like" button here to make your lives easier to get away with a simple click, but reviews is what keeps the writers writing! Especially the nice ones. Thanks.


	17. Chapter 17 - Tiredness Can Kill

**Author's notes: ** this chapter contains a more detailed sex scene that my usual hinted ones. Maybe it would qualify as an "M", I am not sure, but I don't think it is significant enough to turn the story into a full "M" rated one.

You have been warned. Now, read the chapter from the beginning. Don't jump to that particular scene. This is not _50 Shades of Zorro_! ;)

ZZZZZ

**Chapter 38 – Tiredness can kill**

Don Francisco and six other dons were at the library at the Hacienda de la Vega, discussing politics with the host. Most evenings, after dinner, the women stayed in the main room for a quiet time of talking, playing card games and gossiping, while the men headed for the library to talk about the important issues affecting the territory, smoke their cigars and drink brandy. Their loud voices, laughter and the racket they usually made during their testosterone-fuelled meetings could usually be heard all over the hacienda, but not that night.

"I am telling you, my friends, the war is almost over, and Mexico is about to declare its independence from Spain, if it hasn't done so already. You know how some news can mysteriously travel at snail pace sometimes. With an independent Mexico we will have to choose: to become Mexican citizens and stay here in our homes or to be deported back to Spain, with no land and only the goods we can carry with us," said Don Manuel. Diego sighed. He had heard that rant so many times now, that he knew it by heart. _"And whoever stays here, will be a traitor to the Spanish Crown…"_

"And whoever stays here under Mexican rule, will be a traitor to the Spanish Crown," continued Don Manuel. "Alejandro, you are related to the King. What are you going to do?"

"Very _distantly_ related," he clarified, puffing smoke. "I already told you the other day: I don't know what I will do yet. In my heart, I would like to be faithful to the king; but my life is here, in California. None of us can sell our properties and head back so easily. If anything, more than becoming a Mexican, I would like to become a Californian," he stated.

"Do you mean a California State, independent from Mexico or Spain?" asked Don Francisco. "Interesting."

"Yes, Francisco, that's exactly what I meant."

"That would be nice, but sadly, it won't happen. We are not strong enough."

"And what about California becoming a part of the North American states?" asked Diego.

"Diego, don't be silly. Why would we want to become one of their states?" said Don Francisco in a patronizing tone. "They are descendants of the English, our enemies. And they have slaves," he added, disgusted.

"It was just an idea," said Diego, retreating from the conversation, annoyed. He honestly thought it would be a better option than becoming part of an Independent Mexico. The Americans were creating a new country based on freedom, or at least for the white population at the moment, and not based in the old notion of Royalty and privileges for the selected few, as the Spaniards had done; a pattern that Mexico would probably follow too. Besides, the North Americans had a marked interest in science and developing a strong industry in the North, in the areas of the original British ex-colonies, in contrast with the undeveloped rural Mexican mentality. But none of the older dons would see it that way. It would be pointless to argue with them, and it could only lead to more patronizing comments.

As if he was reading his son's mind, Don Alejandro gave him a condescending look, shaking his head. _Zorro or not, Diego still has a lot to learn about politics._ _Becoming North Americans? Good grief!_

"Me, I am sure what I'm going to do. I already know," said Don Francisco. "It took me a long time to make the decision to leave that corrupted ungrateful country and I'm not coming back. And you'll be fools, if you think that King Ferdinand or anybody else is going to appreciate your loyalty."

"Well, in that case, we'll need to stay here too. Otherwise we could split the family apart," said Diego quickly, looking at his father.

"Of course. If Francisco is so convinced, that may settle the issue for us as well. We'll see when the time comes, son."

"I am going to leave," said Don Esteban, the older in the group, who had been very quiet until then. "My only son went back to Sevilla a few years ago, and other than the land, I have nothing else to tie me to this place. Family is a stronger bond, as you know, Alejandro."

"Yes, it is," he agreed.

"I already have an offer for the hacienda and all my land. It is not so much as I would like, but it is good enough. I figured if any others would also try to sell in the near future, the price for our land could fall significantly more."

"Who is buying your land?" asked Diego, raising an eyebrow.

"A _criollo_ landowner from Mexico City, who is willing to get as far as possible from the main fighting area and settle here in Alta California."

Diego shook his head. He had the bad feeling something was wrong, and trouble was ahead for everyone involved.

ZZZ

"Father, are you really contemplating coming back to Spain?" asked Diego when all the guests had gone and they were left alone at the library.

"Of course not, Diego. I did, for a while, but it wouldn't make any sense for us. I knew Francisco would be reluctant to return, and it would be a shame for Sofía not to be spoiled by her grandmother," he joked. "Unless you and Cristina decided to stay here with them, and then I would be the one left out, which is not that appealing either. I didn't want to let the others know so soon, Diego. Don Manuel is particularly insistent to know. I don't know why."

"I thought it was an act, but I didn't know for sure. I know you're a Monarchist, loyal to the Crown.

"Yes, I am, but I am also so disappointed with the unfair system that I gave up on them a while ago. I think it is time for a change. Let's just hope it will be for the best," he added, tapping Diego's shoulder. "I am going to bed now. Good night, son."

ZZZ

A few days later, Don Alejandro had a visitor. He arrived at the hacienda unannounced and introduced himself as Don Miguel Valero, a Mexican creole new to the area and now the closest neighbor to the De la Vegas, as he had formalized the transaction and was now the official owner of Don Esteban's hacienda.

"Don Esteban hasn't moved out yet. I will wait a few weeks for him to put his affairs in order to return to Spain before I move into my new property."

"That's very thoughtful of you, being so considerate," complimented Don Alejandro, politely.

"He told me you are a Royalist." Don Alejandro looked at him, askance, and was about to put him straight when Diego walked into the room.

"Sorry for the interruption, Father. I didn't know you had a visitor."

"Don't worry, son. Don Miguel Valero, this is my son, Diego."

"Nice to meet you, Don Miguel," greeted Diego, shaking hands with a friendly smile. His enthusiasm would be short-lived.

"Nice to meet you, Diego."

"Don Miguel is our new neighbor. He bought Don Esteban's hacienda," Don Alejandro filled in, contemptuous.

"Oh, really?" said Diego, erasing his smile rather too noticeably.

"It is a nice property. I love this area, and I am thinking on expanding. As I was saying, Don Esteban told me you are a royalist, so I wonder if you would be returning to Spain as well when Mexico gains its independence. If you do, I would be interested to buy your property."

"For you information," started Don Alejandro with a harsh tone, "yes, I am a royalist, but for various reasons I think I will stay in California. Thank you for your offer."

"But, you need to consider that any Spaniard who stays here under Mexican rule will be a traitor to the Spanish Crown." Diego crossed concerned gazes with his father. That had sounded suspiciously similar to Don Manuel's words.

"I don't see it that way, and what we eventually do or we don't do, it's none of your business. If I decide to sell to return to Spain, I will contact you; thank you for your offer. Now, if you excuse us, when you arrived I was about to leave with my son." He guided Don Miguel back to the entrance, nearly pushing him away. "Nice to meet you; have a nice day," he said, slamming the door behind him.

"Is Don Manuel behind all that?" asked Diego after they walked back to the library.

"I don't know, son. But I don't like this," said Don Alejandro, upset.

"Neither do I, Father. Neither do I."

ZZZ

A few days later, De Soto looked at the official documents a special courier had just delivered. "_This is it,"_ he thought, with mixed feelings. He had been preparing for this day during the past few months. After the Italian thwarted his plans and he had stopped harassing Zorro to help him, he had been quietly waiting for the moment Mexico would declare its independence from Spain. He figured it would look better in his service history if he had to be deported, even punished for his loyalty to the Spanish Crown rather than returning to Madrid earlier without having completed his task of capturing Zorro.

"Mendozaaaaaaa!" he called. The Sergeant appeared at his office, promptly.

"Sí, mi alcalde?"

"Sergeant, gather all the men at the patio right now. I have an announcement to make."

"Sí, mi alcalde. _Enseguida_." He left quickly, and reappeared again less than ten minutes later.

"The men are ready now, waiting for you outside, mi alcalde."

"Good," said De Soto, heading for the back door with the document in his right hand. He got out and waved the piece of paper in the air. "Lancers! I have been informed that Mexico has declared its independence from Spain. This document states the instructions for the service men at the Spanish Royal Army. Basically, from now on, you have two choices: either pledge your allegiance to the newly created Mexican Government, or you will be deported to Spain." A loud rumour raised in the patio, with all the soldiers talking about the news. "You have five days to decide. In the meantime, I will be acting as the new government official until they send a replacement, because I am not signing up for this! I won't be a traitor to my country! As you will be if you sign up!" he shouted.

"Pero, mi alcalde, I can't return to Spain. There is nothing for me there. My life is here now," said Mendoza, swallowing hard, indecisive. "I think I'll stay."

"Your loss, traitor!" said De Soto, shoving the official document into Mendoza's chest before he came back to his office. _"Idiots!"_

ZZZ

"Alejandro, I had a visit yesterday from that Don Miguel Valero you told me about," said Don Francisco, talking to his friend at the tavern. Diego had been working on the next edition of the newspaper and was having lunch with his father when Don Francisco arrived. "Cristina told me I could find you here," he said taking a seat with them. "Who is this man, really? Why does he want to buy all our properties?"

"I don't know, Francisco. I already told you I don't know his reasons," answered Don Alejandro. "Did he offer to buy your land too?"

"Yes, he did. I told him to go to hell when he started with the _"you'll be a traitor to the Spanish Crown"_ bullshit. How dare he call me a _traitor_? I defended my country against the French and they repaid me with a jail sentence. I won't make that mistake ever again; I am not coming back," he said, enraged.

"Calm down, _amigo._ Getting so upset won't help. We have to find out what does he want and why."

"Maybe Zorro can help us," said Don Francisco, hopeful.

"Maybe," said the old don, with a side glance to his son. He was itching to say something else about Zorro, but Diego stumped his father's foot to prevent it. Too many people knew his secret identity already and there was no need to increase the number recklessly. At that point, Don Alejandro fully appreciated for the first time the incredible self-control Diego had showed during all the time his deception had been going on.

ZZZ

De Soto came back to his office, grabbed the official announcement for the general public and came out through the front door in a foul mood. He walked to the tavern, where most people concentrated at that time of the day, and nailed the paper to the post at the side of the front door, stabbing it with his knife.

"People of Los Angeles, I have an announcement to make. Come out to the plaza to hear me," he shouted at the entrance door. The De la Vegas, Don Francisco and all the other patrons came outside to find out what was he on about. Victoria and Pilar also made their way outside.

"Mexico had finally declared its independence from Spain. It is official now. Actually, it has been for a few weeks, during the time the news took to travel all the way here from Ciudad de México." People at the plaza rumoured loudly, with some of the supporters of an Independent Mexican State clapping happily. "You have two choices now, the same as the soldiers and civil servants of the Spanish Crown.: you either pledge your allegiance to the new Mexican Government, or you leave the country. There is no middle ground; you can't stay here if you want to remain Spanish citizens. You have five days to decide. Have a good day," he said, returning back to his office, not keen to answer any annoying questions. After all, if they bother to read that paper, they would know exactly the same as he knew about the transition.

"Well, that's a no-brainer for me," said Victoria. "My house and my business are here. If I have to become a Mexican citizen, so be it. Where do I have to sign up, alcalde?" she shouted in his direction, before he reached his office.

"Just read the damn paper, will you?!" De Soto shouted from the distance, waving his hand in the air over his head, not turning around to face her. Then, he disappeared inside his office, slamming the door behind him.

"Well, at least he didn't mention we will be traitors to the Crown," said Don Alejandro. Diego and Don Francisco puffed at the same time, disgruntled.

"Thank God for that. I would have smacked him!" said Don Francisco, belligerent.

ZZZ

That night, Diego lay in bed in his favourite "thinking" posture: resting on his back straight on the mattress with his hands tucked under his head, and his legs crossed over.

"What's wrong? You are too quiet," asked Cristina, coming closer to rest her head on his chest, her favourite spot. Diego shared his suspicions about Don Manuel and the mysterious buyer from Mexico. "I think Zorro needs to visit this man to find out his motives."

"Be careful, please. Nobody has mentioned anything about granting a pardon to Zorro. You are still an outlaw."

"Don't worry, I will. It should be easy. I could start breaking into his room at the tavern tomorrow, and search for clues there. I could go out tonight, but I am too tired."

"Are you really that tired?" she said, stroking the scars in his chest and abdomen, provoking that odd sensation of "no actual feel" in those areas of his skin, that feeling he disliked so much. He smiled at the veiled proposition.

"Maybe not _that_ tired," he said. He untucked his hands from behind his head and used them to caress her all over, until he lifted her to drop her with her back in the mattress. He took off her night dress, and continued with a trail of kisses from her neck to her navel.

"Diego, maybe we should try to make love this time. I don't think I will become pregnant; I just had my period," said Cristina caressing his black hair while he was busy going south.

"No, we shouldn't," said Diego with his chin reaching her pubic hair.

"I know you want to, and I certainly do as well, Diego. Can you withdraw at the last moment?"

"Are you sure you want to risk dying for a moment of pleasure?" he asked, lifting his head to look at her.

"Nothing is going to happen. Come on, Diego. You are so efficient you can manage this easily." She could sense his hesitation. "Come on, only tonight. I know you want to," she tempted him again.

"Yes, I do. Of course I do," he said with a lascivious smile. He re-traced all his kisses back up to her mouth, lingering at her breasts on the way up. Then he lifted his head to look at her beautiful eyes, holding her wrists down with that dominating possessive gesture that she loved so much.

"Are you sure?" She nodded in silence, spreading her legs. He started to make love to her enthusiastically, but soon, rather than picking up the pace, he slowed down until he pulled out.

"No. I can't, Cristina. Please, don't ask me. I can't enjoy it like this; I can't stop thinking on the slight chance of getting you pregnant, and imagining you resting pale and immobile on this bed after you bleed to death during labour," he apologized, embarrassed. "I am not lying, look," he added pointing as his quickly diminishing erection.

"I see," she said lightly, smiling to hide her disappointment. "I am going to have to do something about it, then."

They engaged then in their usual routine of giving pleasure to each other by other means, rather than by the forbidden intercourse.

ZZZ

After midnight, there was a commotion in the house, and everybody woke up. The Blascos had arrived traumatized by the events at their hacienda.

"Alejandro, we need your help!" asked Don Francisco, distressed. His clothes were dirty with black-coal like burning residue and ashes, and he stunk of smoke. He held his right arm bent awkwardly, and coughed intermittently.

"What's wrong? What happened?" asked Don Alejandro, alarmed.

"Those bastards burned my house!" he cried out.

"Who?" asked Diego.

"I don't know! They had their faces covered, several of them, at least four men. They stoned the windows and then threw torches inside, in several rooms at the same time. I saw then running away, the cowards," he explained, clenching his left fist, enraged. "The fire spread quickly on the curtains and furniture. It was sort of a miracle we all got out of the house on time, but I could not stop the fire. The house burnt down to the ground."

"That's awful!" exclaimed Don Alejandro. "Don't worry. Of course your family and your workers can stay here tonight, and for as long as you need afterwards. Are you injured?" he asked, pointing to his friend's arm.

"Yes. A burning beam fell on my arm when I was trying to collect some documents from my study. I couldn't save anything. It is all gone." Don Francisco then had a coughing fit that worried Diego.

"I think you breathed in too much smoke, Don Francisco. It would be better if you stay outside getting some fresh air. But before, we need to wash all that burning residue and get you smoke-free clothes so you don't keep breathing it in, and I'll have a look at that arm," said Diego, taking him inside to sort him out.

Cristina helped her mother, who was crying silently still in the carriage. Once she had climbed down of it, Cristina hugged her tightly. She was not so affected by the smoke as her husband, because Don Francisco got her outside quickly before heading back to the house himself to make sure everybody got out.

"It was so frightening!" she cried, shocked by the events.

"I know it was. Calm down. Don't worry; you are safe with us now." She got her mother inside to the guest's room while Don Alejandro organized the accommodation for all of his friend's servants.

"What about the horses, and the cattle? Are they all right? Where are the vaqueros?" he asked.

"The animals are fine. The intruders didn't burn the corral or the barn, and the vaqueros sleep in another building, which was also spared. They stayed there," said María, the housekeeper.

"All right. Good. Now, let's find you all a place for the night."

ZZZ

Diego took care of Don Francisco, who had a nasty deep burn in his arm. He cleaned the painful wound and applied a generous amount of honey before covering it with clean dressings. Don Francisco washed and changed into his friend's clothes and came out to the garden, to breathe the fresh are of the night, still coughing badly.

Diego wanted to go out as Zorro as soon as possible to investigate, but before he did, he wanted to take some measures in case they would suffer a similar attack at the hacienda de la Vega.

"Father, we need to get all the curtains down, and move any easily flammable furniture away from the windows, or better still, to the cellar. Also, we'll need to prepare buckets of water and sand in every room, thick blankets and brooms to put a fire out before it spreads. And tomorrow, we'll make wood planks and blinds to cover the windows at night, so any potential attackers can't throw their torches inside. The roof is tiled; it shouldn't catch fire so easily."

"Good idea, Diego. Yes, let's do that," agreed Don Alejandro, pulling down the nearest curtain.

ZZZ

It was a long night of work, and they finished at dawn. When they all went to bed, Diego came down to the cave to change into Zorro's clothes, and went to the Blasco Hacienda to search for any clues that could involve Don Manuel or Don Miguel, the main suspects. He didn't find any. The house was gone, and the sad hot remains were still fuming, sending spirals of smoke into the air, with the last thick beams still burning slowly. The attackers had covered their tracks quite well, and he could not follow their trail.

Then, with the sun already up, he went to Los Angeles in the early morning, but he couldn't get much information either as the soldiers spotted him on arrival.

The Mexican soldiers chased Zorro out of the pueblo, through the California countryside. All of them were recycled soldiers from the Royal Spanish Army, including Mendoza and Sepúlveda, so their collective skills had not improved that much in such a short space of time since they became Mexicans.

Feeling playful, despite being so tired, Zorro headed to the dense woodland nearby, where he amused himself with the cries produced by the inept soldiers when they hit the low branches, before they fell on the ground with a loud _"thunk"_. Overconfident as usual, with a broad smile in his face, he looked back to make sure that he was the last man still riding. When he turned round, he just had a split second to see the huge branch approaching his face at great speed. He collided with it, rendering himself unconscious.

ZZZZZ


	18. Chapter 18 - Karma's Gift

**Chapter 39 – Karma's gift**

Toronado kept galloping while Zorro lay on the ground, but he came back quickly to check on his master when he realized he had lost his precious cargo. He approached the immobile black form and sniffed around his face, pushing him gently. There was no reaction. _Déjà vu_ _all over again_. There was no blood this time, so the horse decided to patiently wait by his side until Zorro would wake up, rather than to leave him alone in the woods while searching for help.

When he regained consciousness a few minutes later, Diego sat up on the ground, disoriented and dizzy, not knowing where he was. Looking around he saw Toronado ‒who neighed softly by his side, glad to see his master coming back to life‒ and then he realized he was wearing Zorro's black outfit. He took his right gloved hand to his painful forehead, and rightly concluded he had damaged it hitting one of the thick branches, although he didn't remember doing so. The back of his head hurt too, where he had hit the ground by falling backwards. Zorro stood up slowly, still slightly dizzy, climbed back up to Toronado's saddle, and then headed back to the Hacienda de la Vega at a gentle pace. Diego reminded himself he had to be more careful when riding as Zorro, because his head was really hurting, throbbing now with every heartbeat.

ZZZ

Felipe entered the library, where he found Diego holding a wet cold towel over his forehead. _"What happened?"_ he signed, quite worried.

"Not much. Zorro has been an idiot. I banged my head against a thick branch in the woods, and now I have a monumental headache," he said, taking the towel off his face for a moment to speak, covering it again quickly, over his eyes too, because the bright light was also bothering him now. "It is very inconvenient, because I need to get to the tavern to talk to Victoria today, before she decides to marry one of her pathetic pursuers."

_"Are you sure you are all right?"_ signed Felipe after shaking Diego's hand so he would take the towel off his eyes to look at him.

"Yes, I am all right, don't worry. I only hit my forehead. It is not as if I have a fractured skull or something."

"_Do you remember who you are and everything else?"_ Felipe was worried about his mentor, because mentioning Victoria in those terms, when she was still mourning the loss of her husband and uninterested in men in general, was certainly odd. As much as joking about a fractured skull.

"Yes, of course. I remember me, my other me, you, my father... what I did right to the moment it happened, and afterwards... Of course I do. Nothing is missing," he assured, oblivious to the fact that there was _a lot_ missing. "I may have a mild concussion. It hurts. But I am fine." He stood up and then he realized he was far from fine. Very unbalanced, with the room spinning around him, he had to hold on to one of the high chairs. Just then, when he was struggling, Cristina came into the room.

"Diego, there you are. I was looking for you. Did you find any clues at my father's house?" she asked. Diego, still holding on to the chair, looked at her with a weird expression on his face. "Diego, are you all right? What are you doing holding that chair?"

"Who are you?" was the reply she got.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, puzzled.

"What are you doing here? What do you want?"

"Arghh! Diego, stop it. I don't like this kind of games!" she said, raising her voice. For a moment, she thought he was playing some kind of a practical joke, but then she realized he was grasping the chair tightly, and his hands were shaking. "Are you all right?"

Diego took his right hand to his painful forehead. "No, I thought I was, but…" he started, but he didn't finish. He let go of the chair and collapsed on the library floor.

"Diego!" she screamed, rushing to his side. "Felipe, do you know what happened?" He signed to his forehead, and then hit his left palm with his right fist, producing a loud slapping sound. "He hit his head? We need the doctor. Please, find Don Alejandro and then go and fetch Doctor Hernández." She remained on the floor, holding Diego's head, touching gently his forehead, which had a raised purplish bump in the middle. "_Diego, what have you done to yourself this time?"_

Don Alejandro rushed into the library alerted by Felipe, with a couple of servants. They carried Diego to his room, and Felipe went to the pueblo to get the doctor. By the time Doctor Hernández arrived, Diego had woken up. He was confused and a bit slow in his speech, but fully conscious, and not suffering from vertigo as before. He insisted he was feeling well.

"Don Alejandro, Diego has a concussion. It doesn't look too serious at the moment, but this kind of injuries can be quite unpredictable and dramatic, especially because he already damaged his head so badly before. At least, there is no fracture this time. He needs to stay in bed resting for a few days," ordered the doctor. "If he faints again or shows any other worrying signs, please come and get me at once. In the meantime, make him drink some bark infusion; that will help with the inflammation and the pain in his head."

"Thank you, doctor, we will do that. Sorry you had to come all the way here in a rush."

"Don't worry. I am always glad to help our daring hero to keep going," said the doctor tapping Don Alejandro's shoulder.

"Now that you are here, I think you can a look at Don Francisco. Their house burned down last night, and he has been coughing badly since. Diego treated the nasty burn he has in his arm."

"Yes, of course, I'll see him. Where is he?"

"In the guest room," he said, taking the doctor down that corridor. The doctor had a quick look at Don Francisco, and prescribed an herbal remedy to help him with the breathing.

"As I said, strict rest for Diego," he repeated to Don Alejandro at the entrance, and then he left to attend another patient.

Rest was prescribed, but Diego had other ideas. He was left alone in the room, pretending to be asleep and wondering why the curtains where down, letting the bright sun in. Shortly after, he managed to sneak out of the house undetected and, after saddling Esperanza, he headed to the pueblo. He could not stay in bed at home under doctor's orders; no way would he risk losing Victoria to another man. He had to talk to her _today_, as soon as possible.

He arrived at the tavern mentally repeating the speech he had prepared along the way. He tied Esperanza to the rail, took a deep breath, and walked into the tavern, confidently. He found Victoria serving dinners, in the same way as he did before.

"Victoria, I need to talk to you," he said.

"Now, Diego? I am really very busy right now. Sorry, can we talk later?" she said, heading back to the kitchen. He followed her. He was not prepared to let her go without speaking, as it had happened the last time. _Yesterday_, according to his damaged memory, when in fact, more than three years had gone by.

"No, it is important. I need to talk to you," he pressed on. He had finally made up his mind to ask her, and it was now or never.

"All right, then. What is it?" asked Victoria, standing still, looking at him. She realized he looked quite nervous, so she tried to prepare herself for important news.

"Victoria, I came here to ask you to marry me. I love you. I always had, but I was afraid to ask you because you were in love with Zorro before, and it is very hard to compete against him. But now that you are free, looking for a husband, I thought I could finally take my chances." She looked at him in complete shock, opening her mouth unable to utter a word. "What do you think? Please, say something."

"Diego, what are you playing at? Are you out of your mind?!" she finally screamed. "Why are you doing this to me now? It is a very cruel game you are playing." She left the dishes she was carrying on the table, afraid she would drop them with her suddenly over-shaky hands. She took a deep breath and continued: "I _loved_ my husband. I still do, and I am certainly not looking for another one right now. And yes, I _did _love you at one time, but I gave up on you when you got married."

"What?"

"Yes, when you got married, Diego. Are you deaf? Have you forgotten that you are married?"

"Am I?"

"Stop it, and get out of here!" she screamed, storming out in tears, very upset. She didn't understand his attitude, not at all. Why was he doing this to her, why now? She still had feelings for him, and she always would, but after two years wearing black clothes and mourning, she still missed her child's father.

"_What's going on?"_ Diego tried hard to remember, to make sense of Victoria's words and attitude, but he couldn't. Then he realized. "_That lady at home!_ _She must be my wife then_." He also wondered about Victoria's outfit today. Oddly, she was dressed in dark clothes. "_Who died? That husband she referred to? Is she a widow then?"_ His heart was racing with the realization he could not remember so many things. It was a very frightening and disconcerting moment. "_Oh, my God. This is not good_." Extremely worried now, he left the tavern in a hurry to go back home. His head was hurting again, and he was becoming dizzy just as before.

ZZZ

"Where is Diego?" asked Cristina, alarmed, storming into the library. She had left him resting in bed on his own for half an hour, sleeping, while she attended her daughter. While feeding Sofía, she wondered why Diego was pretending not to know her. Maybe it wasn't a joke. Afraid he could have really lost his memory, she came back to Diego's room ready to question him about it, but the bed was empty when she came in.

"What do you mean, _where is Diego_?" asked Don Alejandro, also alarmed, heading back to Diego's room. "He is in bed, resting, isn't he?" He opened the door and realized Cristina was right, he wasn't there. Concerned, they searched the whole house, even the secret cave, but they could not find him. They also checked the stables, where they realized Esperanza was missing too.

"Felipe, do you know where Diego is?" asked Don Alejandro when they came back to the house. Felipe shook his head. He hadn't seen his mentor for a while, since the doctor left. He also thought Diego was resting in bed. "Do you have any idea where he may have gone?" Felipe shook his head again. Then, he remembered Diego mentioning he wanted to see Victoria at the tavern, and he told them so. "He wants to see Victoria? How odd. I'll ride to the pueblo to find out if he is there."

"I'll ride with you," said Cristina. The mention of Victoria always got her on full alert. "Felipe, can you stay here, in case he comes back before we do? Thank you," she said, heading to the stables with Don Alejandro.

Cristina and his father in law galloped fast to Los Angeles. Only half a mile away from the hacienda, they saw Esperanza, who was trotting lazily, coming back home without a rider.

"Look! That's Esperanza. Diego must have fallen off. Let's go!" urged Cristina, spurring Perseo to run even faster. After five minutes galloping along the path to the pueblo, they found Diego lying on the ground. Cristina quickly jumped off her horse and kneeled beside him.

"Diego! Diego, are you all right?" she asked, shaking him gently. He was semiconscious, murmuring incoherent thoughts and shaking, and Cristina could not make sense of what he was saying, only that he mentioned that irritating name a couple of times: _"Victoria"._

"Stay with him. I'll ride back home to get the carriage, and I'll send someone to get the doctor," said Don Alejandro. "Will you be all right here?"

"Yes. Go, quick, don't waste more time!" ordered Cristina while tending to her husband.

ZZZ

Diego stayed in that semi-conscious state for a while, alternating it with periods of deep sleep. Doctor Hernández examined him, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Finally, Diego woke up, and seemed to be articulated and ambulatory, and his vitals and reflexes were normal. The doctor reprimanded Diego for leaving the hacienda before, ignoring his previous advice, and ordered him strict rest in bed, again. He also ordered the others out of the room so he could examine him in more detail.

"What is the last thing that you remember, Diego?" he asked when they were alone in the room.

"_Don_ Diego," he replied. _Odd,_ thought the doctor, raising an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything.

"Yes, _Don_ Diego. What is the last thing that you remember?" he repeated the question.

"Yesterday, I went to see señorita Escalante at the tavern, but I couldn't talk to her. Today, I was riding as…" he stopped himself on time, "… and I may have hit a low branch with my forehead. I had a bad headache, and when I stood in the library, I fainted. Then, you ordered me to stay here, but I really had to talk to Victoria, so I went back to the tavern. I really felt well at the time, doctor. I didn't think I would faint again, sorry. I should have followed your advice."

"Is that all?" Diego nodded. "What day is today?" Diego answered confidently, with the wrong date. "Don Diego, that was more than 3 years ago."

"What? How can that be possible?" asked Diego, anxiously.

"You hit your head very hard. You have partial amnesia. Do you remember Victoria getting married?" Diego shook his head. "Do you know who Cristina is?" Again, another negation by Diego, increasingly restless. "Do you remember that you are married, and that you have a daughter, Sofía?" The expression in Diego's face was turning to total panic now.

"No, I don't remember any of that!" said Diego, very agitated. "But, tell me: how do I know what my memory is missing? How do I know I don't remember what I don't remember I should remember? It could be many things, not only Cristina and Sofia, but I feel like I don't have any gaps in my memories. And I just had a very strange dream, and now I don't know what is real or what is not. I am so confused. Please, help me, doctor!" he begged, anxiously.

"I am sorry, Diego, but there is not much I can do. You need time and rest, and hopefully, your memories will come back to you. By the way, you told me a while ago that I should call you Diego, when I found out your secret. Do you know what secret I'm talking about?"

"That I am…?" He wasn't sure if he should say the name, because he didn't want to give it away. Of course, Diego didn't remember telling the doctor about it.

"Yes?" encouraged the doctor. "That you are…?"

"That I am… _Zorro_?"

"Well, at least you remember _that_. We could have been even in more trouble if you had forgotten who you are," said the doctor, tapping Diego's arm gently, smiling.

"Who else knows that I am Zorro?"

"Your wife Cristina, your father, Felipe, and me, I think," answered doctor Hernández, who didn't know about the alcalde. "I don't know if you ever told Victoria, or anyone else, but I don't think so. I also know that Cristina is the Italian."

"What Italian?"

"Never mind… Don't worry too much and rest now. Everything will come back to you." The doctor turned around to leave, but Diego called him back.

"Doctor, before you go. Can you tell me…ah…" he hesitated for a moment. "Why is Victoria dressing in black? Who is she mourning?"

"Her husband, Juan Ortiz, who died two years ago. He was killed, and you were there. He died in your arms."

Diego's face was blank again. Of course he had no recollection of that either. Now he understood Victoria's attitude and why she was so upset. Diego felt awful and deeply ashamed. Obviously, the circumstances now were not the same from what he could remember, and it was totally inappropriate that he had spoken now, while he was married and she was a mourning widow. And, what about_ his wife_? He didn't remember that woman at all. He found her beautiful, of course, but he didn't feel he loved her. Instead, he felt he was still in love with Victoria. His head started spinning again, just thinking about it. _What a mess._

ZZZ

"It is hard to believe any of this," said Diego, watching Sofía leaving the room with the _niñera._ The toddler turned around at the door and blew him a kiss with an enthusiastic _"bye daddy!"_ before she disappeared in the corridor. The idea was shocking, appalling: he had a two year old daughter, who was very fond of her daddy, _him_, and he could not remember anything about her. Not a single memory or feeling.

"Well, as you can see, it all happened, I am not lying. You are married, to _me_, and you have a gorgeous daughter who adores you. And I love you so much! How can you not remember?" she grabbed his right hand and with the other one caressed his swollen forehead, lovingly, and then she kissed him, but he didn't respond to the kiss at all, acting frigid. She let go of his hand and move away slightly, deeply hurt. He was staring blankly at her, without a hint of love in his eyes, just confusion and denial. "Have you seen your scars?" she asked, in a new attempt to make him remember.

"What scars?"

"All the scars you got when you were shot twice, sliced, and maimed all over during the past three years. That may convince you that what I am telling you is the truth. Have a look. There," she pointed at his torso. Baffled, he took off his shirt to check himself out. Amazingly, she was right. He had a few new scars. Some looked like quite serious injuries, but he had no idea how he got them.

"I am so sorry, Cristina. How can I make you understand?" said Diego, upset, deciding to come clean about his current feelings. "I don't remember any of this. I don't remember how I got any of these scars. I don't remember Sofia being born. I don't remember meeting you, or marrying you, or loving you, for that matter. I could lie about this, but I can't. This situation is extremely difficult and unsettling for me. The last thing I remember is talking to Victoria as Zorro, and advising her to marry Diego, when I loved her. Everything else is gone. It is not there," he confessed, with great sorrow. Cristina's lower lip was trembling by then. "Hopefully, with a bit of time, it will come back to me, but at the moment, there is nothing I can do. I know I am married to you, and I will be faithful to you, of course, but let me take things slowly. Give me time, please. Give me time," Diego begged, once again. Asking for time had become a trend for him.

"Do you mean that, right now, you feel in love with Vitoria because is all you can remember?" Diego didn't answer the question, but his expression said it all.

Cristina was shaking, biting her lower lip white to hold back the tears. He had confessed everything but his ongoing love for Victoria, implicit in his words and body language. Unable to control herself anymore, she finally burst into tears and ran out of the room, heading for the stables. She quickly put the bridle and saddle on Perseo, jumped up, and made him gallop away as fast as they could go at neck-breaking speed, heading nowhere fast. She was crying inconsolably. It turned out she had also received an unexpected gift herself, from Karma.

ZZZZZ


	19. Chapter 19 - Amnesia

**Chapter 40 – Amnesia**

Diego didn't want to upset that lady so much. It wasn't his intention; he just wanted to be honest. When she stormed out, he stood up quickly to follow her; walked a couple of steps toward the door; and then staggered, feeling very dizzy again. He lost his balance and fell over, hitting his head for the second time against the sturdy chest of drawers at the side, and dropped to the ground, unconscious again.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro found his son on the floor, unresponsive. With Felipe's help, they carried him back to bed.

"I don't know if we should call doctor Hernández again or not. He keeps coming all the way here for false alarms, and Diego seems to wake up fine all the time. Bring me the salts; we'll try with that first."

But the salts didn't wake Diego up. He didn't even react to them, not even wrinkled his nose to get away from the substance and the smell, as the patients usually did. After twenty minutes of uncertain wait, Diego was still unresponsive, so Felipe left to get the good doctor, once again. Don Alejandro remained in the room with his son, hoping he would be awake before the doctor's arrival, just as before. He also sent for Cristina, but she was nowhere to be found.

ZZZ

**(*)**** Author's notes****: detailed medical description of 1820's surgical procedure. Skip this if you are too squeamish; or enjoy it if you are curious about this kind of thing, like me.**

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Doctor Hernández checked Diego's heart rate again. It had suddenly dropped from 60 to only 20 beats per minute, an extremely worrying sign. And his pupils were asymmetric, with unequal size and shape, and unresponsive to light. The area over his frontal bone had a large bruising, which was quite swollen and purple, and he had another smaller bump to one side, which was new and angry looking. The doctor concluded Diego had knocked himself out when falling this last time, unfortunately hitting the side of his head. The slow heart rate was preceding and impending and fatal brain damage, due to an increased volume and pressure inside his skull.

"Don Alejandro, Diego is very sick. I think the second blow to his head had caused a very large contusion and his brain is swelling inside his skull, probably bleeding."

"What can you do, doctor?" asked Don Alejandro, firmly crossing his arms over his chest. He started to furiously bite his nails, something he had not done since he was a kid.

"There is a controversial surgical procedure that I could try: _trepanation_. I need to drill a hole in Diego's skull to relieve the pressure."

"_What?_ Make a hole in his head?" One of his fingers started to bleed, when he bit his nail too short, but he didn't even notice it.

"If I don't do anything, he is going to die, Don Alejandro. I am sorry, it is the only thing I can do, and he may not survive the procedure."

Don Alejandro blinked looking at him in shock, trying to grasp the situation. His son was about to die_, again_, and the doctor wanted to drill his skull open to avoid it. Wasn't it better not to have a fractured skull? Why did he need to break it himself? It didn't make sense to him, but he trusted the doctor.

"What tools do you need?" he asked, springing into action.

"I need a clean hand-held drill. Do you have any, for carpentry?"

"Yes, of course, I'll see what I can find." He left the room, leaving the anxious doctor rummaging through his medical bag, arranging bits and pieces for the surgery, while Felipe paced the room, on edge. Don Alejandro came back shortly after with the tool, a brace and bit with wood shavings still hanging from the end. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes, but I need it clean, and dry. Can you please wash it?" Don Alejandro diligently did that in such a shaken state, that he was splattering water everywhere around the basin. Felipe tried to help him, but his hands were not much steadier. In the end, they managed to do the job between them.

"Why he wasn't so sick when he had a fractured skull? Why is it worse now?" asked Don Alejandro from the basin while drying the tool with a cloth.

"When the skull was fractured, his brain could swell inside his head, and there was no haematoma forming under the bone because he bled out though the fracture. I am trying to create an artificial fracture now by drilling the bone, so I can release the pressure inside." Don Alejandro nodded, but still didn't make much sense to him.

When everything was ready, the doctor grabbed the now spotless drill, and pondered which would be the most appropriate site for the trepanation_. "Should I drill over the frontal bone, right under the haematoma forming in his forehead, or further at the top, over the parietal bone?_ _Or to the side, over the new injury?"_ Dr Hernández wiped the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. He didn't have a clue, admitted to himself, with the hand-held drill ready, shaking in his hand. Whatever he did, he could kill Diego in the process. But if he didn't do anything, he was going to die, he was sure of that. And pretty soon.

Don Alejandro noticed his hesitation and tried to encourage him, ignoring his own anxiety. "You are an excellent physician, doctor Hernández. I am sure your decision will be the right one. Please, go ahead, save my son. I can't lose him."

Doctor Hernández made up his mind and chose a spot at random, in between the two areas, above the haematoma in his forehead. He shaved a small area of hair away, and made an incision in the scalp until he reached the bone. Taking the brace and bit he started to spin the instrument, drilling into Diego's skull.

Don Alejandro cringed with the screeching sound and stepped back, queasy. Then the old don remembered Diego's joke about his aversion to blood and, overcoming his fears, he came closer to the scene to hold his deeply unconscious son's hand. All the anguish he had felt before when Diego was shot at the duel, and when the Russian smashed his head, came back to him with a vengeance. Would Diego be able to pull through this one too? At least now Don Alejandro knew his son was Zorro, a _legend_, an extraordinary man who many people believed was indestructible.

"Hold on, son, you'll be fine," he managed to whisper.

When the drill came through the bone, before reaching the surface of the brain, the doctor pulled it away, and a large amount of blood came out of the hole, bubbling like a fountain. Don Alejandro gasped in shock, but Doctor Hernández sighed with relief: he had hit the right spot.

"Don't be alarmed. This is what we want," said the doctor while wiping away all the blood. After the initial massive spill, a smaller amount of blood kept oozing slowly. "Now we have to pray the haemorrhage stops itself. There is no way I can stop it without risking damaging his brain. It is only oozing, it should be fine, and the most important thing was to relieve the pressure inside." He applied a bandage to Diego's head, padding it well around the wound so the dressings would adsorb all the blood. When he had finished, he checked Diego's heart rate one more time. It was slowly rising.

"I think the worse is over. He has a fighting chance now," he said, patting Don Alejandro's back gently. "We have to wait and pray that he makes it, if he ever wakes up."

"What do you mean, _if he wakes up_? asked Don Alejandro, alarmed. "Of course he is going to wake up! He has too!"

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

**A.N**** \- Medical procedure over. You are safe now… I think…**

ZZZ

Unaware of Diego's critical condition, Cristina and Perseo had been wandering aimlessly in the country side for more than two hours. She didn't know what to do next. She had always been jealous of Victoria, even when Diego swore he only had eyes for his wife, _her, _Cristina. And now, _this_. She thought it was the way God was returning her vile gift to Victoria. She had been mean, due to her jealousy, and it had turned against her out of proportion. If he didn't recover his memory, ever, Diego would be stuck in the past, in love with Victoria all over again, and there was nothing Cristina could do about it.

She was so obsessed with the thought, so perturbed by it, she didn't realize bad weather was closing in. She looked at the dark grey sky, surprised, when the first drops of rain of a furious thunderstorm fell on her face, while they were trotting along a vast, large open field. With no place to take shelter, they pressed on, and pretty soon horse and rider were soaking wet. Lightning brightened up the skies at short intervals, as the storm was directly over them, and a loud thunder followed the light almost immediately every time. Soon, the terrible noise frightened the nervous horse so much that he galloped frantically at full speed, out of control, not responding to Cristina's commands. Unable to stop the horse, and with the thick rain hurting her eyes, she closed them and grabbed the pommel of her saddle, holding onto it in despair. Blind to her surroundings, she considered what would be the worst possible end: being struck by lightning or falling over and breaking her neck. However, in her current state of mind, none of these options were completely unattractive. So, she lifted her chin up, let go of the saddle and continued to follow the movement of the horse, expecting to be struck at any moment, happy to end her misery and pain that way. After all, they were the higher point in the plain field, which didn't even have a solitary tree to attract the killer spark.

"Come on, God! Hit me!" she screamed, and a lightning bolt hit the ground only a few meters away from her, making Perseo run even faster, if that was at all possible.

In the end, as the Universal Force had other plans for her, they were spared. The storm started to ease off, heading the opposite way. Exhausted, Perseo came to his senses and slowed down to a canter; then a slow trot; until he finally stopped, puffing and snorting under the now softer rain in the middle of nowhere. Cristina let herself drop down to the floor, feeling weak and miserable. She hugged her horse's neck, crying inconsolable. She wasn't ready to die, not really. First, she had to come back for her daughter; and second, she couldn't abandon Diego while he was so sick. Right then, she decided to be strong and stick around her husband no matter what, even if she would be ravaged by the jealousy. He didn't love her anymore, but she still did, for ever.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro and Felipe had been watching Diego for a few hours, while waiting for Cristina to come back. Shortly after treating Diego, Doctor Hernández had left to attend a woman in labour, after giving some instructions to the anxious father. The last time Don Alejandro had checked his son's pupils and his pulse as instructed, there was no change. That was half an hour ago. He stood up to check again, lifting Diego's eyelids gently while Felipe leaned forward with hope, sliding to sit at the edge of the armchair. As before, nothing had change. The right pupil was still dilated, not responding to light, while the left one was very small, like a pinhead.

Don Alejandro sighed deeply and looked at Felipe while shaking his head slowly. The youngster sunk back in his armchair, with great disappointment on his sad, sombre face. Don Alejandro came back to his seat, and held his head between his hands in despair. What was he going to do if Diego didn't wake up? He had suffered greatly when his wife died, and he could not again face the possibility of surviving his only son. He wasn't ready to carry on all by himself, especially not now with the situation with the new Mexican government, and the thread of having their hacienda destroyed by the unidentified arsonists.

A few minutes later, a sudden change in Diego's respiration pattern caught their attention. He started to stir in his pillow, and he slowly opened his eyes.

"Diego! Diego, you are back!" his father exclaimed, rushing to his side. "Are you all right? How are you feeling?" Diego was looking at him with a blank stare. Then he looked behind him, around the room, trying to recognize the place. Finally, he opened his mouth and whispered:

"Where am I?"

"This is your room, Diego. Don't you recognize it?"

"Who are you?" he asked, focusing again in his father's face_. _

"_Oh, my Lord,"_ thought Don Alejandro, rubbing his palms slowly. "Diego, I am your father, Alejandro." Diego continued staring at him with his empty unequal size pupils.

"Who's Diego? Me?" he asked after a while. Don Alejandro stood up, and with very shaky hands, went to fetch a glass of water, while trying to deal with his emotions. He wasn't ready for this. He had hope Diego would wake up fine. Felipe stood by Diego's side, anxious, with his eyes fleeting between the two older men, unsure where to look. When Don Alejandro returned, he gave the glass to Diego, holding it above his right hand.

"There, drink some water," he offered. Diego tried to grab the glass, but he couldn't. His hand was not responding his brain's command.

"I can't move my arm," he announced, with that unsettling blank expression in his face.

"My goodness! Don't worry son, we'll call the doctor back here. Felipe! Can you please go and fetch doctor Hernández again, please?" he asked, very agitated. "Diego is awake, but he can't move and he can't remember a thing!"

ZZZ

After a while, horse and rider both calmed down and slowly headed back to the Hacienda de la Vega. On arrival, a few hours after she had left, Cristina found the doctor's carriage at the front door. Alarmed, she came into the house, and went straight into Diego's room. He had a large bulky bandage covering his head, and the doctor was examining him. Don Alejandro, in a corner of the room, attacked furiously the remains of his once well-cared for nails. When she stepped into the room, the old don approached her.

"Diego is very sick, Cristina. He nearly died four hours ago. Doctor Hernández drilled a hole in his head to save him."

"What?"

"He is awake now, but…" he hesitated, not sure how to tell her. "Well, you'll see for yourself." At that moment, the doctor was sticking needles in Diego's right hand and arm, pricking them, making him bleed, but he would not react to the stings.

"Why it doesn't hurt?" asked Diego, mesmerized, looking at his own arm as if it belonged to someone else. When the doctor reached is shoulder, he complained: "Ouch! I felt that!"

"Did you? That's good, Diego. Let me try again." He did, with the same result.

"Now, try to move the fingers." –No response from Diego.

"Flex your elbow." –Still no response.

"Try to move the arm from the shoulder." Diego did, a little, with apparent great effort. "That's very good, Diego. Rest now, please," he said, tapping his arm.

Diego looked at his arm, then at the doctor. _"Did he tap my arm or not?"_ he thought, confused. He could not feel a thing.

Doctor Hernández approached Don Alejandro, Felipe and Cristina to tell them the news. "Diego has lost his memory completely, total amnesia; he can't remember anything, not even who he is. And his right arm is paralyzed. I hope both problems are temporary, but I don't know."

"Oh, poor Diego!" exclaimed Cristina. "He didn't recognize me before. Sorry, I left because I was very upset when he didn't remember me. I guess that was the first sign of his problems."

At that moment, Felipe walked towards Diego, and started to gesticulate in front of him. When he saw Diego's empty stare, he stopped.

"Who is this boy, and why is he moving his arms like this? Why is he not talking?" asked Diego to the others. Felipe started crying silently.

"That's Felipe, your adoptive son. He can't speak, he is mute," said Cristina, grabbing Diego's inert cold right hand between hers.

"Who are you?" asked Diego.

"I am Cristina, your wife." Diego looked at her with his blank stare, not showing any emotions.

At that point, the only consolation for Cristina was the thought that if Diego had total amnesia now, then sure he would not remember Victoria either.

ZZZZZ


	20. Chapter 20 - More Trouble

**Chapter 41 – More Trouble**

Victoria had been wondering about Diego's bizarre behaviour all night. The next day at siesta time, when it was quiet at the tavern after lunch, she left little Alejandro with the niñera, saddled her horse, and headed to the Hacienda de la Vega to confront Diego. She couldn't understand why, if he really still loved her, he had open up to her now. It didn't make any sense.

Don Alejandro welcomed her at the entrance when she arrived at the hacienda.

"Good afternoon, Victoria. Thank you for coming. You are very kind," he said hugging her tightly. He looked exhausted, unkempt and unshaved, with dark areas around his eyes caused by the lack of sleep and all that woe and anxiety. "We are devastated."

"What's wrong Don Alejandro? You look so tired," she said, worried, walking inside holding his arm. As she was busy at the tavern she hadn't heard the tragic news, and was completely unaware of the situation. "I came to talk to Diego. Is he here?"

"What do you mean? I thought you knew, and that's why you want to see Diego, don't you?" asked the old don, confused.

"He came to the tavern yesterday, but he wasn't himself. He acted in a very odd way, and I want to ask him why."

"So, you really don't know then?" asked Don Alejandro, stopping at the lounge in the way to Diego's room. "Take a seat, please." Victoria sat down, and the old don sat in a chair in front of her. "I don't think he will be able to tell you anything now, dear. He had an accident and he damaged his head badly." Victoria gasped.

"Is he all right?"

"Diego can't remember anything, not even who he is; he has total amnesia. And his arm is also affected. He can't use is right arm."

"What? No!" cried Victoria, in shock.

"What did he tell you yesterday? Maybe I can help you. At first, he couldn't remember the last three years, but then he hit his head again and now he can't remember anything, even his name."

"I am embarrassed to tell you, Don Alejandro," she said, shifting in her chair, uncomfortable.

"Did he say he loves you, by any chance?" Victoria nodded, flushing red, biting her lover lip. "Don't worry, Victoria. I know," said Don Alejandro, tapping her knee gently. "He told me he loved you a long time ago, right after you left Los Angeles, before he met Cristina. Actually, we had a row back then, because I couldn't understand why he didn't tell you on time, and why he let you go without fighting for your love. He said he was afraid you would reject him. I think after he hit his head for the first time yesterday, he forgot about his wife and your marriage and he tried to tell you then, to put things straight."

"That would make sense, yes." Tears slid down her face. "Can I see him?"

"Yes, of course. I am sorry, Victoria. But try not to upset him, or Cristina. He is still in a critical condition, and she is devastated. It would be better if she doesn't know about your conversation with Diego yesterday."

"I understand, yes, of course," she said, standing up.

They walked to Diego's room, and Don Alejandro knocked softly at the door. Cristina and Felipe were in the room, quietly watching Diego, who was asleep. Victoria gasped when she saw the large bandage covering Diego's head, which had a large blood stain in one side.

"Good afternoon Cristina. Felipe. I am very sorry. Don Alejandro just told me what happened," she said, trying not to shake too much.

"Thank you, Victoria," said Cristina, with a titanic effort to sound friendly and grateful. She coughed, discretely, trying to hide the bad cold she had got after riding soaking wet for so long the day before. She was starting to feel feverish, but she didn't want to walk away from Diego again. Especially not now that Victoria was around.

Felipe stood up and offered Victoria his chair.

"Thank you, Felipe." She sat down at that chair, the closest to Diego. She wanted to hold his hand, but she refrained herself as Cristina was looking at her every move. Felipe sat down with Don Alejandro at the other side of the room. They all stayed like that, in silence for a few minutes, everyone lost in their own thoughts until Diego started to stir. He woke up, opening his eyes slowly, and he looked around the room with his dazed confused stare, until his eyes stopped at the closest person to him, focusing on Victoria.

"Hello, Diego. How are you?" she asked, taking his hand this time, ignoring Cristina's upset look. Diego stared at her for a few seconds, and then he opened his mouth, hesitant, until he managed to form a sound. Everybody gasped when he uttered the word:

"_Victoria?_"

"Diego! Do you recognize Victoria?" said Don Alejandro, hopeful, rushing to his side. Diego kept looking at her with his empty stare, showing no emotions.

"No. I don't remember her. The name just came to my mind, but I don't know who she is. This is really odd."

"I think that's good progress, son. It means your memories are there, blocked, but trying to come back. Give it time, just give it time," he said, squeezing his shoulder.

Upset as she was, Cristina could not repress the next bout of coughing. He remembered _her _name, but not his wife's!

"_Are you all right?"_ signed Felipe. _"You sound as bad as your father."_

"I am all right, don't worry. I got quite wet yesterday during the storm. I think I have a cold, that's all." Felipe touched her forehead.

"_You are burning hot,"_ he signed. _"You should go to bed. Don't worry; we'll take care of him."_

"Thank you, Felipe. You are very kind, but I am fine, honest," she said, shivering. She didn't convince anyone.

"Cristina, go to bed, please," asked Don Alejandro. "We need you fit, and strong." She didn't want to leave, but then she realized she didn't have a place to go.

"Where? All the spare rooms are occupied now." Nobody had realized of that fact. Then, Felipe stepped in, again.

"_Go to my room. I can sleep here, on the floor."_

"Thank you, Felipe. But I am all right here." She started coughing again, and then she sneezed with a loud burst. Felipe helped her up and almost dragged her out of the room against her will.

"She doesn't look well," said Diego with his unemotional plain tone. Then he looked around him. "Is this her bed?"

"Yes, Diego. She is your wife. This is your marital bedroom," said Don Alejandro. "She is right. We have guests in the house and all the other rooms are occupied."

"Should I move to a chair and let her rest in here then? She looks worse than me." He pushed the covers away with his left hand, and started to raise his torso to get up.

"Really? Is that what you think?" asked his father, smiling while he gently pushed him down on the pillows again. His son could not remember much, but he still remembered how to be a gentleman. "Believe me; you don't look that great yourself."

ZZZ

After the shaken Victoria left with the promise to visit again the next day, Doctor Hernández arrived to change Diego's bandages. He was satisfied with his progress, as he wasn't bleeding that much now, and the fact that he could remember Victoria's name was encouraging as a first step to get his memory back. His arm was still paralyzed, but it was too early to know what would happen.

"Doctor, do you know why there are no curtains or shutters at the windows? The bright light bothers me," said Diego. His pupils were back to normal size, but the doctor noticed they overreacted to the light now.

"You asked to have the curtains removed right before you damaged your head, to prevent a fire spreading quickly. Arsonists burned down Don Francisco's hacienda two days ago."

"Who? Why?"

"We don't know yet. I'll talk to your father. You are right; you'll be more comfortable in a dark room. I'll see you again tomorrow." The doctor tapped Diego's arm gently. "Try to rest as much as you can, and don't wander out of bed. Your right leg seems to be affected too. It is not working as well as it should, and you may fall again."

ZZZ

Don Alejandro hanged the curtains back in Diego's room. He realized they still hadn't made the shutters and boards to cover the windows to prevent a direct attack as Diego had suggested before he damaged his head. He sighed, tired. They'll do that tomorrow, after a good night of sleep.

ZZZ

After midnight, Cristina woke up at the sound of shattered glass. She sat up in bed, frightened, in time to see three burning torches flying in from the window. Felipe's bedroom had been stripped to a bare minimum of furniture, but its small size made impossible to move the bed further away from the window, so one of the flames fell on the bed. The cotton linen set on fire immediately. Cristina jumped out of bed to get the bucket of water ready at the corner of the room. She was about to tip it over her bed, but she left in on the floor again. First, she used the fire to quickly lighten up the candles in the bedside table; collected the two torches burning on the floor and submerged then in the water, where they went off with a sizzle; and then she tipped the water over the fire in the bed. Realizing the fire would have spread quickly and out of control if she had to get out of the room to get a bucket full herself, she thanked Diego for his preventive measures. By the time she got out of Felipe's room, everybody was screaming in fear "Fire! Fire!" and chaos followed. When she saw her mother heading out to safety carrying Sofía in her arms, she ran down the corridor to check on Diego.

Felipe also woke up at the sound of broken glass. Before he could realize what the noise was, his improvised bed on the floor was on fire. He saw a man leaning through the window with his face covered with a bandana up to his eyes. He was setting the curtains on fire as well, and then he threw that torch to Felipe's head, with a sinister laugh. Felipe screamed, panicking when his hair also caught on fire. He shook the torch away and slapped his head trying to stop it while the flames quickly spread through the blankets and sheets in his bed.

Diego woke up with his cries. He sat up with some difficulty and got out of bed steading himself with his left shoulder leaning on the wall, dragging his weakened right leg. His paralyzed right arm dangled floppy and useless. He reached for the bucket of water and grabbed it with his left hand. Unsteadily, as if he was walking on a boat rocking in the sea through stormy weather, he managed to get close to Felipe. He lifted the heavy bucket from the handle and tipped it over the youngster's head by kicking it with his knee. When he lifted his left leg to turn the bucket his damaged right side could not support his full weight and he fell, collapsing on top of the other torch which was burning on the floor. Before he knew it, his night gown and his head bandage were on fire. He screamed in pain and tried to roll on the floor to extinguish it, but his body did not respond. In a blur, he felt the slapping pain caused by a rug hitting his body repeatedly, and then he was lifted by his arms and dragged out of the house, where he lay on the ground beyond the entrance, confused and semiconscious.

"You know what Diego said; we have to come back to fight the fire," said Don Alejandro, looking back to the burning house in apprehension. "We can't let it spread and burn the whole house down."

"Yes, let's go. María Luisa, stay here with Diego and Sofía. Please don't let any of them wander around," said Don Francisco, coughing badly again.

Cristina, also coughing, arrived at the assembly spot away from the house helping Felipe, who collapsed on the ground next to Diego.

"Come on, let's go back and at least make sure everybody got out," she said, despite feeling weak with the fever.

The trio came back to the house, and helped by some of the servants they fought the fire until it was under control. The first clarity of dawn lighted up the sky when they came back outside. They were a sorry sight with blackened clothes and skin, and luckily, only minor burns.

"Where… is… Zorro? Why… is he not… helping us?" asked Don Francisco in between coughs. He was nearly convulsing, as if he was about to cough his lungs out. Cristina and Don Alejandro looked at each other, but they didn't say anything. When they reached the group waiting outside, they dropped to the ground to rest, exhausted.

"Are you all right, dear?" asked Doña María Luisa, alarmed by her husband's state. Sofía cried softly in her arms, her face buried on her bosom. He held his right hand up and nodded, but he could not say anything, gasping for air as he was.

"How are they?" asked Cristina, nodding to the two injured men. When Sofía heard her mother's voice, she quickly reached for her and hugged her. "It's all right, sweetie, everything is fine. _Mamá está aquí_," she said stroking her little head.

"Felipe has nasty burns in his hands, arms and head, but I think he will be all right. Diego is unconscious again. He has some burns in his torso and his right arm, but they are not too deep," said Doña María Luisa.

"Why is Daddy asleep again? Why he doesn't talk to me?" complained the little girl, sobbing.

"_Papá_ is not well, dear. He is very poorly. We have to help him to get better, and to remember how much he loves us."

"He doesn't love me anymore!" cried the little girl. It was heart-breaking for Cristina to hear her own thoughts coming out of her daughter's mouth.

"Don't say that. Of course he does," she said, with a trembling voice. "He just needs to remember who he is." Doña María Luisa could see her daughter was too affected and about to cry again, so she stood up and grabbed the little girl's hand.

"Come on. Let's go back to the house now, to bed. It is safe now. I'll stay with you." Cristina stood up as well and helped Felipe up to walk him back to the house. Don Alejandro needed the help of two of his workers to carry Diego inside back to his bed.

ZZZ

"I don't know how he managed to be silent all this time, Cristina, but right now, I can't. I think you parents should now," said Don Alejandro at the kitchen, where they had gathered to get breakfast before they would try to get some well-earned sleep. They had already treated the wounds of the injured men and had let them safely resting back in their rooms, and cleaned up some of the mess. Don Francisco had just mentioned Zorro again, and the old don, in his agitated state, could not keep quiet any longer.

"Really? I don't think so. Diego won't like it," remarked Cristina as firmly as she could, feeling weak. She didn't want to argue. All she wanted to do was to go back to bed, to _any_ bed, and sleep like a brick.

"He can't remember a thing, _maldita sea_! It won't make any difference now!" argued Don Alejandro, slamming his fist on the table.

"Hey, hey, calm down," intervened Don Francisco. "What are you talking about?"

"We are talking about Zorro," said Don Alejandro.

"I thought you were talking about Diego," said Don Francisco, confused.

"Precisely." A heavy silence followed, until Don Francisco spoke again.

"Our Diego… Zorro? Is that what you are saying? That he _is_ Zorro? No way! He can't be!"

"Yes, he managed to hide his skills rather too well to fool us all for so long. I was shocked when I found out, not that long ago."

"And you knew that when you married him, dear?" asked Doña María Luisa, although she already knew the answer. She had always wondered how her feisty daughter could have settled for someone as calmed and sometimes dull as Diego. Cristina nodded while thinking: _"Please, please, please, Alejandro, don't you dare to mention anything about the Italian!"_

"I can't believe it! You are joking!" Don Francisco was pleased to know his son in law was the daring hero, but he could not get his head around that outrageous idea.

"I wish I was, _amigo mío_. Every time you ask: _"where is Zorro? Is he coming to help us?"_– your words get by stomach churning. He can't help us this time, Francisco. Only God knows if he will do ever again. We are on our own."

ZZZZZ


	21. Chapter 21 - Beyond Caring?

**Chapter 42 – Beyond caring?**

"What happened here, María?" asked Victoria when she arrived at the hacienda in the morning. She could see the damage caused by the fire all around her, and of course, smell it. "Is everybody all right?"

"Oh, señora, it was really bad. The arsonists tried to burn the house down last night, the same as they did to Don Francisco's, but we were alert and we managed to put the fire out before it could spread."

"Can I talk to Don Alejandro?"

"El señor retired to rest not that long ago. He was up all night, the same as the others."

"What about them?" asked Victoria, pointing to some of the people resting on the chairs in the lounge.

"They have no place to sleep. Their rooms were badly affected by the fire. There is not enough space here for all of us now."

"You should all come to the tavern then. I have a few empty rooms there. Also, I have two spare rooms in my house in the pueblo that you could use."

"Thank you, señora. You are very kind."

"Who is helping you? Are the soldiers looking for the arsonists?"

"No. We sent word to the alcalde, but nothing has been done yet."

"What about Zorro?"

"We haven't seen him. I don't know. He may be busy somewhere else."

"Can I see Diego? How is he?"

"He is resting in his room. La señora is also resting there with him, on the floor. Don Diego has some burns, not too bad. Felipe is worse. His hair caught on fire and he burned his head and his hands trying to put it out. The doctor was here to see him. He left not long ago."

"Oh, no! Poor Felipe!" gasped Victoria, with her hand covering her mouth, horrified. "I think it will be better if I come back later in the afternoon when they are awake. Let them rest. As I said, send the people without rooms to the tavern if they need to rest."

"Thank you again, señora. I'll tell them that now. Goodbye."

ZZZ

"The house is still up. You didn't burn it down like the other one," said Don Miguel looking at the Hacienda de la Vega from the distance. He was riding with some of his men to survey the damage caused by the fire, and was quite cross to discover the attack hadn't work to plan.

"They were ready this time, _patrón._ They were expecting us," complained Armando, the man who had thrown the burning torch to Felipe.

"Idiots! I told you to make sure the fire spread. _He_ is not going to like this. You know _he_ wants to see the De la Vega's going away for good, whichever way. It would have been better it that happened peacefully if they were forced to sell the property."

"We used more torches this time. But they had removed the curtains and most things that would caught fire from the rooms. And they had buckets of water ready to put the fire out immediately. We tried to burn the stables too this time, but they still managed to get the horses to safety and kill the fire. The only building that burned completely was the barn, where they kept all the hay."

Don Miguel, upset, grunted something unintelligible about Diego de la Vega and then turned his horse, trotting away from them back to his property. The others shrugged their shoulders and followed him reluctantly, not bothering to cover their tracks this time, as they were nowhere near to the damaged hacienda.

ZZZ

Restless, Don Alejandro could not stay in bed for long, thinking he could not postpone the installation of the shutters at the windows, in case the arsonists would try again. So, after a couple of hours of pointless turning and twisting in bed, he got on with that task, even if the hammering could disturb everybody else. When the doorbell rang, he walked to the entrance with a hammer in his hand, about to star nailing some boards at the window frames, over the shattered glass. The last person he expected to find at the door right then was Don Miguel.

"Don Alejandro, how are you? I heard the horrible news. Is everybody all right?" said Don Miguel when the old don opened the door.

"How dare you show your face in here?" he shouted, shaking the hammer menacingly. "Get out!"

"Why? What's wrong?" asked Don Miguel with an affected tone, playing ignorance, aware of the improvised powerful weapon the old don was wielding. He watched it closely in case he would launch an attack with it. "I came to offer you my help."

"You are involved in this somehow! Whatever it is you are planning, it's not going to work. I'm onto you. And you are going to pay for this!" barked Don Alejandro, hardly containing himself so he would not attack the visitor sinking the hammer in his skull.

"I don't know what you are talking about. You are mistaken, señor. I have nothing to do with this!" lied Don Miguel, unconvincingly. "How is your son? I heard he is very sick." He had to confirm the rumours about his memory loss and his paralysis. He needed to find out how sick he really was, and how much he could remember. And he hoped Diego was seriously disabled, for his own sake.

Don Francisco was also awake in the house. When he heard the shouting he came to the door to help his friend, also surprised to find that man there. His self-control wasn't as good as Don Alejandro's, and luckily for the visitor, he didn't have a hammer at hand.

"You! What are you doing here? Get out!" With his good hand, he grabbed the much shorter man's jacket behind his collar and pushed him away, back to his horse.

"Get your hands off me!" he shouted, forced to walk forwards with short steps, on his tiptoes.

"Gladly," said Don Francisco, releasing his grip to deliver a hard kick to Don Miguel's rear end. He fell to the ground, losing his hat, growling with the humiliation. He stood up and considered for a moment to retaliate and punch Don Francisco, but he refrained himself from doing so. He wiped the dust off his clothes slowly, but firmly, with his eyes throwing daggers at his attacker.

"Do you see this?" he asked, pointing at the floating particles of dust creating a small cloud around him. "You are going to bite the dust, _amigo_."

"As I told you before: go to hell. And do it fast," replied Don Francisco. He looked into the distance, and smiled. "Look: the alcalde is coming. Maybe you would like to explain him how the house caught fire last night."

Don Miguel picked his hat up and dusted the brim slowly before he set it carefully on his head. He smiled and mounted on his horse. Without another word, he trotted away on the opposite way to the alcalde.

"Do you think I can borrow Toronado?" whispered Don Francisco.

Don Alejandro shook his head, smiling, and slapped his friend's back.

"No. But I can lend you _Rocinante_." They both chuckled while they waited for the alcalde.

"What are you doing awake, anyway?" asked Don Alejandro.

"I couldn't sleep. I am exhausted to the point I can't rest," answered his friend.

"Me too. And we have so much to do. We can try to rest later at siesta time." Don Alejandro shook his hammer again. "I hope he is going to be useful," he added, hopeful, pointing with the hammer to the approaching figure, "because I don't have time to waste on nonsense."

ZZZ

"Good afternoon, Don Alejandro, Don Francisco. I came to say my farewell. I am on my way to San Pedro to purchase a passage on the next ship to Spain. I am leaving Los Angeles for good," said De Soto, coming into the house when Don Alejandro invited him in.

"Are you? The Mexican officials finally kicked you back to Spain, huh?"

"Not quite yet, but nearly. The new alcalde is due to arrive any day now. I received a letter telling me the new governor expects my departure as soon as possible, even before the proposed alcalde arrives here, if it is necessary. As you may know, I would have gladly left this forsaken hole of a place myself a while ago because I don't want to become a Mexican citizen; however, I knew it would look better in my service history if I was deported for my refusal to become Mexican rather than leaving on my own free will. Everyone who does comply with the new government, including you and your son, is a filthy traitor to the Spanish Crown."

Don Alejandro looked at him, deeply upset to hear the same despicable and infuriating sentence once again, clenching his fists in anger because right then, with Diego so sick, he didn't have a choice but becoming one of them even if he didn't really want to. He refrained himself again for the second time that morning, and he didn't say anything.

"Is your son here? Can I see him before I leave?"

"_Why are these two so interested about Diego, all of a sudden?"_ thought the old don, suspicious.

"No. My son is very ill. I don't think the stress of seeing you will make him any good. I thought you came here to investigate who set the hacienda on fire last night. Don Francisco's was also burned to the ground three days ago, and we still haven't heard from you conducting an investigation."

"No, I didn't know anything about it," said De Soto looking around him evaluating the damage to the house. "So, this wasn't an accident?"

"No. Masked men threw torches in a raid. They did the same at Don Francisco's. Luckily, Diego told us to take some preventive measures before he had the accident. You should find out who those men are and what is their purpose burning up our houses, and of course, bring them to Justice."

"That's not my duty anymore, Don Alejandro. From now on, I don't care what happens in this forsaken pueblo, you know? I am beyond caring. I am leaving."

"But you are still the alcalde until the new one arrives! Of course it is your duty!" complained Don Francisco, who had been quiet until then.

"I don't see it that way. Call Zorro for that," he said, sniggering. The two friends looked at each other, unaware De Soto also knew about Diego's secret identity. After all, he had said at the hearing he didn't think Diego was Zorro.

"We think the new landowner, Don Miguel, is involved. The same as Don Manuel," said Don Alejandro. "Don Miguel offered to buy our haciendas too, and we refused. But then only a few days later someone tried to leave us homeless. It shouldn't be too difficult to find out who is behind this."

"Maybe. But it won't be me. So, can I see Diego before I go, then? You said he is very ill. What's wrong with him? Suffering from a headache, as usual?" he mocked.

"Among other things, yes, a headache! A very bad one!" spat Don Alejandro, immensely cross with the alcalde's attitude. "Haven't you heard at all? Diego had an accident."

"Did he? What kind of an accident? What's wrong with him?" asked De Soto, ignoring the old don on his way to Diego's room. Don Alejandro followed him, annoyed at his behaviour. He acted as if he owned the place.

"Leave him alone! He had a concussion and he is very confused. He has lost his memory and…"

"Has he? Really? How convenient is that, right now." He thought it was a trick from Zorro, and losing his memory was a lie so he would not appear anymore in the pueblo. He opened the door to Diego's bedroom with an unnecessary kick, to find his former schoolmate asleep in his bed, with a large bandage around his head, with a small blood stain on one side. "Maybe you are right. He doesn't look very well. What happened?"

"He banged his head badly and Doctor Hernández had to drill a hole in his skull to save him; it is still bleeding. I am telling you, he is very sick, get out of here!" demanded Don Alejandro.

"_Wow! Again! He is definitely Achilles,"_ thought De Soto. _"He can't die! No matter what his injuries are. A hole drilled into his skull this time? My goodness!"_

They hadn't realized Cristina was asleep by the bed on the hard floor, in her improvised uncomfortable bed. She woke up with all the shouting.

"Can you shut up and get out of here? Some of us need to sleep," she complained with her head still covered by the blanket she used to black out the light coming from the once again curtain-less window.

"Oh, Cristina, sorry. We forgot you were here. Come, come with me to my room and sleep in our bed with your mother and Sofía. It will be much better than staying on the floor. We'll take care of Diego, don't worry," offered her father. Cristina, still in yesterday's clothes, pushed away the blanket and stood up to follow her father, still only half awake.

"What about you? Why are you not resting?"

"I couldn't sleep. Don't worry about me, dear."

"What is he doing here?" she asked when she realized De Soto was also in the room.

"Just visiting, señora. Sorry to wake you up" apologized De Soto. Cristina ignored him and passed him by on the way out. If anything, she would like to spit on the alcalde rather that saluting him.

"How did he damage his head? What was he doing?" asked De Soto to Don Alejandro when they were left alone in the room with Diego.

"Get out of here, please." Don Alejandro, about to lose his patience, pushed the alcalde towards the door. Caught by surprise, the alcalde lost his balance and steadied himself by holding onto the chest of drawers, accidentally topping over the vase with flowers which was at the top. The vase crashed on the floor, shattering in a hundred pieces.

"Look at what you have done now!" shouted Don Alejandro, losing it completely. He pushed the alcalde out of the way again and crouched down to collect the larger pieces. With all the commotion and the loud voices, Diego finally woke up. He looked at them with his empty gaze, trying to understand what the shouting was about, and then he focused on De Soto, the closest to him.

"Do I know you?"

"Of course you do, Diego. I am Ignacio De Soto, the alcalde."

Alejandro cleared his throat, cross. "The _former_ alcalde, you mean. You insist you are _off-duty_, remember?"

"No… You are Judas," said Diego, pointing at De Soto with a shaky unsteady hand.

"Judas?" asked De Soto, puzzled. Then he remembered. "Are you talking about the play we did in Madrid?"

"What play? I don't know about that… but you are Judas, sure… Hey, I can move my hand now!" he exclaimed, excited, looking at it as if he has never seen it before. He was smiling like a kid with a new toy.

"Diego! You can move your hand, that's fantastic!" said Don Alejandro, pushing the alcalde abruptly out of the way for the third time to get closer to his son, making De Soto crash against the set of drawers one more time.

"Yes, and it hurts now," said Diego, pinching it with his left hand. "But it is still very slow, and shaky. Why do I have a bandage here?" he asked, pointing to the dressings that were covering his right forearm. "Something hurts in there."

"Can you feel it? That's kind of a good sign, son. You couldn't feel your arm yesterday at all. Do you remember there was a fire in the house last night and you burned your arm?" Diego, nodded.

"Yes, I remember. I used the water to help the boy. His head was on fire, but I don't remember much else."

"I think you fell again, Diego, on top of a burning torch. You were lucky Cristina put the fire on your clothes out with a rug. You only have superficial burns." Diego looked at him with his inexpressive eyes.

"Did she hit me with it? I vaguely remember that. It hurt," he said, looking more upset than grateful.

"Let me see your eyes." The pupils were still equal in size, but not over-reacting to light as before. "Good, it looks like you are getting better, and so quickly!"

"Better? He is gone bananas!" said De Soto, laughing. "He thinks I am Judas!" The alcalde was puzzled by the whole situation. Someone was trying to burn the haciendas; Zorro was injured, out of action; and Diego could not even remember his own name. However, none of that was his problem, not anymore. And Diego could be faking it. After all, he was a master at deception.

"But you _are_ Judas… and you are a bad person. You sold me to the soldiers," said Diego, looking at him, narrowing his eyes, quite cross. "I don't like you."

"Well, the feeling is mutual, Diego." _You, pompous nerd. Of course you like me. Kind of. _

"I don't like him either, son," intervened Don Alejandro. "But it is good that you remember him. You met him in Madrid, at University, a few years ago."

Diego was looking at De Soto with his blank stare, trying to remember something. "I must have been boxing with him then. I remember punching his face many times, and it felt so good," he smiled, excited.

"Boxing with me? At University?" laughed De Soto. "In your dreams! I don't think so, Diego. You have never been an action man. And I am sure if we ever get boxing, you won't have the pleasure to punch my face," he said, waving a fist in front of him. He didn't know Don Alejandro knew Diego's secret now, so he didn't mention anything. But it was too obvious to De Soto his old schoolmate was referring to all the embarrassing times when Zorro had punched him in the past. The same thought occurred to Don Alejandro, but he managed to contain his laughter.

"Haven't I?" asked Diego, more confused now. He could remember blurred feelings and situations when he was fighting, but it was all too fainted. "Can I have some water, please?" Don Alejandro was disappointed when he offered the drink to Diego, because although his son could move his impaired hand a little now, he still lacked the strength to hold the glass on his own. _Would he ever be able to handle a sword as proficiently as he did before?_ The Soto shared the same thought as the old don.

"I don't like you, Judas," repeated Diego after drinking some water with some difficulty, as his hand was so shaky than even with his father's help he was toppling the liquid all over his neck and chest.

"Whateveeeeeeer…" said De Soto, circling his index finger at his temple, dramatically. The alcalde considered for a moment if the whole thing was a trick to fool everyone as before, but Diego looked genuinely impaired. Upset after seeing the pueblo's hero so disabled, he decided to go. He could not stand it. "Now, you stay here in La La land, Diego, while I go back to Spain. Good luck with the new Mexican alcalde, Don Alejandro. I think you'll miss my good command and fair government."

"Yes, sure," he said, seeing De Soto out, glad to get rid of the man. But, for an instant, he remembered the old saying: _better the devil you know_. He rejected the idea quickly. _No one can be worse than him._ "Enjoy Madrid. Good bye." _Good riddance to bad rubbish!_

ZZZ

De Soto came out of the Hacienda de la Vega with mixed feelings. Before his departure to Madrid, he had paid a visit to Diego mainly to find out what his plans were under the new regimen: to continue his quest for justice or to give up Zorro all together. De Soto had been busy, comfy in his own little bubble for the last few days, and had missed all the talking about Diego's accident, so he was shocked to find him like that. No hope for Zorro then. It was unsettling to realize how much his own feelings had swung from hating and despising the black figure to admire him so much, as a real person. He would like to leave California safe in the knowledge that the hero would continue helping the soldiers as before, specially that poor, simple, charming fool of Mendoza. Somehow, he was going to miss the sergeant's constant presence once he would be back in Madrid, he was sure of that, as he had grown quite fond of him over the years. Although he would never admit that to anyone. Even less to Mendoza, who would probably fall apart crying, all emotional.

He sighed for a moment, stopping the horse. He turned on his saddle to look back at the hacienda, standing on the stirrups. Then, it was the issue of the arsonists, too. If Zorro's help was out of the question, and he could not care, who else was left to help them? The whole thing stunk to conspiracy. He didn't like Don Miguel, who was clearly a rotten apple, and the two friends were probably right to point at him as the main suspect. He sighed again, sitting back on the saddle, readjusted the pommel of his sword, and slowly turned the horse to head to the Don Esteban's hacienda, now Don Miguel's. He could have a quick look at least. He owed them that. He still had plenty of time to get to San Pedro before the evening.

ZZZ

After De Soto left, Diego was quite agitated. For a while, he had a short period of enhanced perception, the clearest it had been since the accident, when he was more aware of the circumstances around him, and the troubles of his caregivers. Thoughts were trying to swim out of his mental dark waters which were surrounded by the thickest fog, but he could not really remember them no matter how hard he tried. Who was that man who had just left? Why did that man left him with this mixture of feelings, one of clear animosity and the other… what was it? Respect? He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything; it was all so frustrating.

And that man who claim to be his father... He was a sorry sight. He looked so exhausted, worried and defeated. Diego wanted to help him, but he didn't know how. Someone had tried to burn his house down with everybody inside. Maybe he could try to help him with that.

"Diego, what are you doing?" asked Don Alejandro when he saw his son trying to get out of bed.

"I need to get out of bed and move a little. I need to remember something. It may help me to walk some steps."

"Do you think so? The doctor said you shouldn't move. He'll be back here soon, I think."

"Help me to get up," asked Diego, with his left hand up and ready. Hesitating, Don Alejandro took a while to make up his mind, but he finally helped his son out of bed. It looked like a good sign that Diego was suddenly so active, and more coherent. Supporting his son, they walked slowly down the corridor to the library, where Diego sat down in one of the armchairs. He looked around the room, paying attention to the large amount of books on the shelves. Books which luckily were not affected by the fire, but should have been taken to the basement, Don Alejandro realized of that too late.

"Are they mine?"

"Yes, Diego, most of them. Some are mine, but most of them are yours. And probably you have read them all more than once."

"Well, if I never get my memory back, it sure would take me a while to read them all again." His father smiled, with a little hint of a chuckle. He squeezed Diego's shoulder from behind his seat. _Please, come back to us, son. I need you_, he thought, with a solitary tear slipping down his tired face, which his son didn't see.

ZZZZZ


	22. Chapter 22 - A Blast from the Past

**Author's notes:** Difficult chapter to read, this one, but I think it is worth it, as it totally redeems this otherwise ambiguous character. Also difficult to write. Crying shamelessly in a public place while writing it. Oops. There we go:

*****WARNING: DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF SLAUGTHERING, AGONY AND DEAD OF MAJOR CHARACTER. RATED M (ADULT) FOR VIOLENCE*****

You have been warned. Read at your own peril.

ZZZ

**Chapter 43 – A blast from the past**

On his way to the neighbouring hacienda, De Soto came across some hoof prints. He wasn't an expert at tracking horses, not by any stretch of the imagination, but those prints suggested a large group of riders had been looking at the hacienda De la Vega from the distance, and it looked like they came from Don Miguel's, and also returned there. He considered coming back to the garrison to get some back up, but he decided to continue on his own. After all, he was on a _reconnaissance _mission only, and whoever those men were should not foolishly attack the alcalde. He spurred his horse softly to continue on a gentle trot towards the hacienda.

When he reached the house, he saw a group of horses tied at the posts and rails at the entrance, saddled and ready, in a number consistent with the amount of prints he had seen before. He dismounted, tying his own horse at the end of the row, and listened intently. He couldn't see any men outside, but he could hear voices coming through the open windows. He approached the house carefully, stopping by one of the windows, leaning to his right with his back against the wall, listening.

"I am telling you, _he_ is due to arrive any time this afternoon, and he is not going to like it. That house should be gone. They should all be gone by now. And I don't want to be held responsible for the fiasco." De Soto recognized that voice as Don Miguel's.

"What are you suggesting, then? Should be go back and try again?" said another voice.

"Now, in daylight? Are you nuts? They may shoot us. I heard that old man is quite good with a musket. We'll come back later tonight if you want, helped by the darkness as before," said another one. "_Chicken"_, De Soto thought, smiling.

"Tonight will be too late. _He_ will be here already. I am going to have to convince him Diego de la Vega won't be a problem for him. He insisted he is the only one who could recognize him. But right now, I have been told he can't even remember how to tie his shoelaces." Several men laughed at this joke. "Otherwise, if that's not true, we may need to kill him. All of them, maybe. It could look like an accident." De Soto had enough _reconnaissance_. He turned slowly getting off the wall to go back to his horse and to the garrison, but he stopped in his tracks when he found a gun pointing at his nose.

"Who are you? What are you doing sneaking in here?" asked the thug with the gun.

De Soto tried to keep calm and do what Zorro probably would do in that situation: chat up for distraction.

"I came to see Don Miguel. He is expecting me. It is about Diego de la Vega's condition. He wants to be kept informed of any changes, at any time, as you know."

"Uh. All right." The man lowered his gun and De Soto took advantage of that to punch him hard, to knock him down silently as Zorro would do. But De Soto wasn't Zorro. The man dropped to the ground, but not totally unconscious. The alcalde nearly broke his hand as a result of delivering that ineffective hard blow. At least, the attacker dropped his gun and could not shoot him. Only dazed, he shouted from the ground: "Intruder!"

De Soto ran to his horse, untied him with some difficulty as his right hand was not responding that well, as if his bones were shattered, and then he managed to climb up his horse. But before he could spur him to gallop away, the men at the house caught up with him. One reached for the reins while another one came at great speed from a side and jumped on the alcalde, over the saddle. They fell over to the other side together, and dropped down heavily on the hard soil.

The horse, spooked, reared on his hind legs, pulling from the reins, and accidentally stepped on the man attacking De Soto, missing his rider by an inch. While the man cried out in pain, De Soto stood up quickly and reached for his sword, in vain, because with his damaged hand he only managed to get half of his length unsheathed with great difficulty when another man punched his face, making the alcalde stagger backwards, finally getting the sword out only to drop it himself on the ground as he could not hold it properly_. "How the hell does he get these things always right? And how does he make it look so damn easy?"_ he thought, dazed and annoyed, wondering how Zorro could make any fight look easy, even glamorous sometimes.

Another man came from behind and tackled De Soto's back, taking him down. He pressed the alcalde's face against the dusty soil and twisted his right arm behind his back, pulling up. De Soto cried out in pain and stopped struggling.

"All right, all right. You got me," he said, surrendering, with his free hand tapping on the ground. Armando pulled him up to stand, while still holding his right arm bent behind his back, in a tight hold.

"Alcalde! What are you doing here?" asked Don Miguel, coming outside.

"I came to see you; tell your men to let me go," he said, trying to sound firm and in command. Don Miguel looked at him raising an eyebrow.

"Get him inside, to the patio," he ordered. Armando pushed the alcalde and made him walk inside, pulling from his arm to convince him walking forwards on his own would be the easiest option. The man who had been punched recovered from the blow and told Don Miguel:

"He said he wanted to tell you something about Diego de la Vega."

"Is that true?" asked Don Miguel, addressing the alcalde. "What do you know?"

"The soldiers will be here any minute now," he tried, without much hope. "Let me go."

"The soldiers don't know anything, or they would be already with you," reasoned Don Miguel. "Who knows you are here?"

"The…" For his own sake, he was going to say "De la Vega's" but he stopped himself in time. There was no point to mention them to put them in danger. And it wasn't even true; they didn't know. "Nobody. Other than the soldiers, I mean." _Oh, man, shut up. Get a grip. You are acting like Mendoza now, _he reprimanded himself.

"What do you know?" repeated Don Miguel. De Soto didn't answer, so the Mexican landlord nodded to the man De Soto had punched, who in retaliation delivered a hard blow to the alcalde's abdomen, making him lean forward in pain, pulling from his restrained arm. He cried out, only to receive another blow to his mouth. Armando let go of his arm in time or he would have dislocated his shoulder when he fell to the ground heavily.

"Get him up again," ordered the Mexican. When they did, holding De Soto by his elbows to support him, Don Miguel asked again: "what do you know about Diego de la Vega? How is he? Did he have an accident, as I heard?"

"_What do I know? He would kick your arse, if only he could remember who he is, and how to move his arm. Maldita sea! Really bad timing, this is."_ Remembering the menacing words he had heard by the window, he decided to paint a bleak picture of his condition, even worse than it was.

"He had an accident, yes. A blow to his head," he said through his bleeding lip, breathing heavily between sentences, "and now he can't remember anything. The doctor had to drill a hole in his skull to save his life at some point. Now, he can't even remember his name. He looks retarded, the way he talks now."

"Retarded?" asked Don Miguel, laughing. De Soto nodded. "I like that. Stiff-upper-lip, intellectual snob Diego de la Vega _retarded_. Priceless. I want to see that someday."

"Besides, he is paralyzed. He can't move the right side on his body. His right hand hangs limp, like dangling," added De Soto, unstoppable now.

"For someone so reluctant to talk, you certainly got off now, alcalde," said Don Miguel, suspicious. "Why is that?"

"Because it is the truth, and because I had enough of your beating. Let me go. I was on my way to the port of San Pedro, actually, to get on that ship to Spain."

"We'll see about that. Armando, tie his hands up," he ordered. "He'll decide what to do with you." At that moment, he heard powerful footsteps in the house. "I think he is coming."

ZZZ

"Diego, what are you doing here? You should be in bed! You may cause another hemorrhage in your head if you are moving around too much before it is healed. Come on, let's go back to your room," said the doctor, pulling him up to help him. He had come to check on Diego's progress and to change his dressings, and he wasn't expecting to find his patient so active, not at all. "Can you walk?"

"Yes." Diego stood up from his armchair at the library and walked back along the corridor with the doctor, followed by his father.

"He said he needed to walk a little to try to get his memory back," said Don Alejandro.

"Did you remember anything, Diego?" asked the doctor.

"No," said Diego. His window of opportunity had passed and he felt confused again, reverting back to the odd childish behaviour he had displayed since he had the accident.

Once in his bed, he showed his right hand proudly in the air, moving his fingers in a weird, uncoordinated way. "And look, doctor, I can move my hand now!"

"That's wonderful Diego. I was hoping your symptoms would be temporary, and that you eventually would go back to normal after relieving the pressure in your head." He checked his eyes again, satisfied to find normally responsive pupils now. "Give it time, you'll be fine." He removed the dressings and cleaned his wound, also glad to verify that the bleeding had stopped now. Then he covered Diego's head with a much lighter bandage. "I'll be back tomorrow. Please don't wander around, stay in bed." He checked also on Felipe before he headed out in a rush, because always on demand, he had another patient to see.

ZZZ

"Who is this man?" asked the tall figure who came into the patio at that point. He looked like a lost homeless person, but with a sinister, powerful authority. The others moved quickly out of his way, as if they feared him.

"It is the former alcalde, Ignacio De Soto. Totally clueless," said Don Miguel. The stranger smiled under his beard, recognizing the name, although he still couldn't see De Soto's face as two of the thugs were busy tying his hands at his back with a piece of rope, obscuring him from view while doing so. "He is loyal to the Spanish Crown, one of the very few men in the territory who are going to be deported back to Spain." The man who had just finished tying De Soto's hands pushed him forward, and the alcalde staggered a couple of steps trying not to lose his balance. Looking around, he realized he was surrounded and already defeated, totally at their mercy.

"Well, he is not going now," laughed the tall man. "I know him. Permission to leave the Mexican country has been revoked, señor."

De Soto glanced at the mysterious man who seemed to be the boss. His features looked familiar somehow, but he couldn't recognize his face, framed as it was by such a long hair, unkempt beard and moustache. However, when the alcalde stared at the stranger's eyes his stomach turned and he felt sick, nearly heaving. De Soto could not believe his bad luck. He was about to go back to Spain; this wasn't fair. Not now. Not ever.

De Soto could hardly stand up straight after the beating he had received and the panic he suddenly felt. He swallowed hard and asked in horrified awe: "What are _you _doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question, Ignacio. What a lovely surprise this is, finding _you_ here." The man approached the battered alcalde with a vicious smile, coming face to face with him, and De Soto shrunk in fear at least two inches shorter. "As you asked me first, I'll tell you what I am doing here: I am doing what I should have done a long time ago," he said, with a falsely polite mocking tone, so close he breathed out his words over De Soto's frightened face.

The bearded man thoroughly enjoyed the glint of dread and horror in the alcalde's eyes when he reached for the huge hunting knife he had on his belt. He held it at eye level, and the shiny blade flashed reflecting a ray of sun. De Soto, defenseless with his hands tied behind his back, tried to step backwards away from the knife, but the man followed him and stabbed his abdomen with a swift move. De Soto gasped in pain, terrified, leaning forward when the attacker dug deeper into his guts making him jolt up. The mean, merciless killer then jerked the sharp knife up a couple of times to enlarge the wound while he held his crumpling victim with his left hand, butchering him. De Soto gasped again when the attacker abruptly pulled the knife out, and when the killer let go of him he collapsed on the ground with his mouth open, gaping like a fish out of water. The murderer squatted and took his time to slowly clean the blood-stained blade on his victim's clothes, enjoying the moment while De Soto agonized in pain gasping for air without uttering a sound. Smiling, the killer leaned forward close to his victim's ear and whispered:

"I told you not to mess up with me, didn't I?" Then he stood up, laughing out loud, and kicked the fallen man hard on his side, breaking two of his ribs, but his wild-eyed, gored victim was already too shocked to cry or complain about anything, and he hardly reacted to the final blow.

The killer walked away from De Soto and ordered to his men: "ditch him."

"Really? Where?" complained one of them, adding with a disgusted face: "I don't want to touch him. His guts are coming out!"

"Shut up! Cover him up and take him away from here. Anywhere but here, do you understand? And clean all that blood!" He paused for a moment to think. "That's it: drop him somewhere at the De la Vegas' land. And leave him there to rot. He will take a while to die of that wound. Let him suffer before he becomes dinner for the vultures."

ZZZ

"Victoria, you are not welcome here. You should leave," said Cristina extremely cross after she woke up in the afternoon and went back to her room to check on Diego, cringing when she found Victoria all cosy holding his hand, talking to him softly and caressing his arm as well.

"Am I not welcomed? He said before I could stay for as long as I wanted," replied Victoria in a harsh tone, tired of Cristina's hostility.

"He is not saying that now," said Cristina with her hands at her hips.

"He is not saying I should go, either," Victoria answered back, defiantly, standing up to face Cristina with her hands also at her hips.

Diego looked at the two feisty fighters, wondering what was all that about. Of course, he didn't remember any of them, or what he had or hadn't told them before, so he could not take sides. "Ladies, calm down. I don't know what I told you, or what are you arguing about."

"Diego, when my husband died – in your arms, by the way– you promised him that you would take care of my family, as you have done all this time, and for that, I am extremely grateful. But now, _your wife,_ (she said the two words as contemptuously as she could) wants to get rid of me."

"Is that true?" Diego asked to Cristina.

"Not totally. Yes, you promised that, but she has been meddling since her arrival at the hacienda. She is nothing but trouble," accused Cristina.

"And you are jealous because he loved me first!" shouted Victoria. Without thinking, Cristina reacted to her words and slapped her hard, leaving a bright red mark on her face. Victoria gasped, surprised, and immediately answered back smacking Cristina with the same amount of force, if not more.

"How dare you, _bitch_!" they both cried at the same time. They started a cat fight, slapping, scratching and pulling at each other's hair furiously, screaming and shouting insults. Cristina was surprised by Victoria's fierceness; this was the first brawl she had ever had against another woman, and she wasn't very sure how to react or how far to go. Fighting large men with swords was much easier than dealing with that little weasel!

Diego looked at them mesmerized, as men usually do when they see two women fighting like that, and he didn't say anything to placate their fury. Somehow, he was spellbound and delighted at the same time, as the two beautiful ladies seemed to be fighting about him, and his ego was kind of pleased. But the moment of contemplation was broken when Don Alejandro, alarmed by the commotion, arrived at Diego's bedroom.

"What's going on?" he asked, coming into the room. "Cristina! Victoria! What are you doing? Stop it!" He came between the fighters to separate them, pushing them apart. "Are you_ insane_? For heaven's sake!"

"It is her fault!" cried Victoria, with his index finger pointing at Cristina. Her dishevelled raven locks fell over her face, and she puffed to blow them away from her eyes. "She started it!"

"And I am going to finish it!" cried Cristina, advancing to grab Victoria's hair again. Don Alejandro pushed them apart once more.

"Stop it! Right now! Diego, say something, _por el amor de Dios_!"

Diego shrugged his shoulders, showing his left palm up, with the right one slowly trying to do the same, lagging behind. "I got nothing. I don't even know what's happening. They are crazy."

"All right. Victoria, calm down, and come to talk to me at the library," he said, pushing her towards the door while he was still restraining Cristina with his other hand. "And you, stay here, and calm down as well. I'll talk to you later." He followed Victoria out of the room, shaking his head, puzzled by their behaviour. "_Women!"_

ZZZ

Armando pulled his grey patterned bandana up to cover his nose and mouth, in a similar way as he had done before to hide his face when he set fire to the Hacienda de la Vega, this time to avoid heaving. He felt sick looking at the poor bastard bleeding on the ground, amazed he could still be alive. His boss was an expert at inflicting horrendously painful wounds to maximize the suffering of his victims, who could take a few hours to die, always in agony. The alcalde moaned weakly when they lifted his torso up to cover the wound with a bandage to hold his exposed guts in place. Armando had seen a man with a similar wound spreading his entrails all over a field when they dragged him, getting them entangled in the bushes, and he didn't want to repeat that gruesome experience. When they had finished, they dragged the wounded man and placed him on an old cart loaded with hay. They hid his body from view spreading some hay all over to cover him, and then headed for the neighbouring hacienda.

On the way there, they didn't meet anybody who might have remotely considered the old cart suspicious. Once into De la Vega's land, they left the road driving into an isolated area and stopped the cart close to a small brook. Then, they grabbed the alcalde's boots to pull him off the cart, wiping some hay away from his clothes and face, and between the two men, they lifted his limp body from his ankles and under his shoulders. They swung him a couple of times to gain momentum, and then they dumped him unceremoniously into the shallow water, like a sack of potatoes. Armando looked around, wondering how long it would take for the scavengers to gather around the half-dead, injured man. Feeling merciful, he shook his head and then grabbed his knife to finish him off quickly.

"What are you doing? You know what he said: _"leave him to rot in there, suffering."_

Armando hesitated. He didn't want to upset that crazy man if he ever found out he didn't follow his orders, so he didn't kill De Soto. Instead, he cut off the ropes to free his hands.

"At least, let him scare away the vultures while he is still alive. He is not going anywhere." The other man nodded in agreement. Then, they came back to the cart and drove away without turning around, not even once.

ZZZ

"Victoria, my child, what's going on? What were you thinking, fighting with Cristina like that?"

"She started it," she repeated, sulking.

"What did you say or do to provoke her?"

"Ah… nothing."

"I can't believe she would attack you for nothing. I am sure you said something that tipped her over the edge. Do you realize she is deeply distraught, having a husband who can't recognize her or her daughter, at all? Do you realize how hard that must be for her?"

"I guess," she said, unsympathetic, surprising the old don with her cold tone.

"Victoria, do you love Diego?" asked Don Alejandro, looking at her intently. She fidgeted, avoiding his eyes. "Please, answer me," he begged, gently. She looked at him coyly, shaking her head slowly, but it was too obvious for him that she did. Don Alejandro kept staring at her, and she finally cracked.

"I don't know. Maybe. But, after all this time after he left me, I still feel in love with Juan. And sometimes I feel in love with Zorro, too. I am very confused, sorry," she confessed in the end, crying.

"Zorro?" asked the old don, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, Zorro. I think I still love Zorro. But he has ignored me ever since I left him to marry Juan. And I can't blame him for that, because it was my fault. I am the one who left him without even saying goodbye," she carried on, sobbing now.

"_She still doesn't know!"_ thought Don Alejandro, closing his eyes. He rubbed his palm down his face, slowly, and continued stroking his chin between his thumb and index finger a few times, unsure what to do or say. This was too much. "_Of course Diego had been avoiding you, poor soul." _What a mess.

"I don't think you should put your hopes in Zorro again, Victoria. That ship sailed a long time ago. If he wasn't suitable for you then, I am sure he won't be suitable now."

"I know, but I can't help it." She continued crying inconsolably.

"_Well, try harder, dammit! This is the most ridiculously inappropriate time to have this conversation!" _

"Excuse me, Victoria. I need to placate Cristina now. Try to sort yourself out a little, will you? And forget about any future with Diego, please. Just continue to be his friend, because you know he is taken. And all he needs to do right now is to recover, not to take sides in this senseless quarrel." Victoria nodded, wiping away her tears, embarrassed.

"I'll try my best."

"Good." Don Alejandro left the room at a brisk pace. _Women!_

ZZZ

"You never told me Ignacio De Soto was the alcalde of Los Angeles." Don Miguel looked at the bearded man, annoyed. _And you never told me you would slaughter someone like that in my own patio_, he thought. _You animal_.

"You didn't ask his name. You seemed only interested to know the former alcalde was going to leave the territory on time, allowing full scope for your agenda."

"But it was a nice surprise, thank you. And what about Diego de la Vega? Is he going to be a problem? Do I need to dispatch him as well? I heard you didn't succeed to buy the hacienda, neither have you destroyed it." The hint of a menace for his incompetence made Don Miguel swallow hard, nervous.

"Maybe it doesn't matter if the De la Vegas are still around. Don Diego had an accident and has total amnesia; he can't remember anything from the past. And he is paralyzed. Half of his body doesn't work properly anymore, and for what the alcalde said, his judgment is impaired too, to the point to look retarded."

"Wonderful. If that is true, I would love to see that man struggling. That may save his life."

ZZZ

Extremely thirsty due to the blood loss and the shock, De Soto appreciated the dubious deference his attackers had shown by ditching him in an actual brook rather than in a deep dry hole, and he made the most of the situation by dipping his head in the water to drink avidly. When he had enough, he crawled with great effort away from the water. The few inches of height he had to clamber to get out of the brook felt like climbing a large mountain, and when he managed to get off the water he had to stand still for a while to regain some strength, panting while he considered his options.

He had registered the order given to the men to dump him at the De la Vega hacienda, so he looked around trying to recognize the place to get his bearings to get to the house. He had to get to Diego to warn him, even if right now that idea could seem completely pointless as Diego could not remember anything. But, with his damaged mind, he still had recognized him from University, somehow, so De Soto had to be hopeful. After all, unlike himself, Diego was Achilles and could pull through anything.

De Soto knew he was mortally wounded. He didn't dare to remove the bandage to look at his wound. The pain was excruciating, a torture nearly unbearable, even more as he was dragging himself across on his abdomen, but he suspected the pain was the only thing that kept him conscious and alive. Also, the way his broken ribs hurt every time he took some air, wasn't helping either. Determined not to die without a fight, De Soto gritted his teeth and got on with the task to get closer to the hacienda, inch by inch.

It took him half an hour to cover twenty meters of ground, crawling painstakingly slowly away from the brook, leaving a trail of blood behind him as if he was a gigantic, bleeding snail. Exhausted, he ran out of energy and could not carry on forward, not even a further inch. He realized he wasn't going anywhere, as the thugs had predicted, so he gave up and turned on his back to relieve the pressure off his abdomen. He looked at the clear, cloudless, blue sky, panting heavily after his titanic effort had failed. A couple of vultures were already circling high up there over his head, watching him with interest. De Soto growled loudly in frustration, hitting the ground repeatedly with both fists, yielding to self-pity. He was awfully thirsty again, but to him, the small distance he had to cover to come back to the brook was the equivalent to swim back to Spain across the Atlantic, so he regretted to have been such a fool as to think he could actually crawl his way across the land to Diego to deliver his unsettling, important message.

ZZZ

"I am sorry, Cristina, but that's the way it is," said Don Alejandro talking to her in private. "Whether you like it or not, these two shared a past, when they loved each other, for many years. And that kind of love can never die completely. You have to come to terms with this and learn to accept it, and stop the senseless jealousy, please." Cristina looked at him, as embarrassed as Victoria, and answered in a similar way to her:

"I know. But I can't help it, sorry."

"Diego won't be unfaithful to you. Even less now. So stop worrying unnecessarily, and support him to recover instead of giving him more grief. And me; you two women are driving me crazy. If my beloved wife was here, bless her soul, she would put you both in your place in no time at all. But I am an old man, and as you very well know, I have other worries right now. I hope this nonsense stops here. Now, today. Victoria will continue to be a friend of this family, and you'll treat her politely and kindly. Is that clear? I think your father will back me up on this too."

Cristina looked at him, fuming, as she never had accepted that kind of sharp rebuke easily.

"Is that clear?" he asked again, stern.

"Yes. I promise I'll try my best not to slap her the next time I see her."

Don Alejandro lifted his arms in the air, looking at the ceiling while shaking his hands in despair, and left the room mumbling to himself, asking the Holy Spirit for patience. _Women!_

ZZZ

Mendoza and Sepúlveda were on their way to the hacienda De la Vega to visit Diego, when the corporal spotted the large birds circling slowly in the air, already in a descending trajectory.

"Look, Sergeant. Vultures."

"Nasty, disgusting creatures. I hate them," said Mendoza.

"Should we have a look what they are up to?"

"No. We don't have much time; we should be back at the garrison in less than two hours, remember?"

"Let's have a look. It could be one of Don Alejandro's calves, injured or something, and we can save it. Come on. It won't take long."

"All right then," agreed Mendoza, pulling from the reins to turn the horse to the left. They trotted off the path toward the spot the birds were circling, looking for an animal in distress, and they gasped when they spotted a human form sprawled on the ground, not dead yet as he was moving.

"Is that…?" started the corporal, but he didn't finish, shocked when he realized that man had a distinctive, fluffy, white hair. The alcalde was lying on the ground on his back, and was waving his arms weakly to shoo away one of the massive birds, which was feeling remarkably brave for its cowardly species and had already landed to fest, even if its dinner was still alive.

"Madre de Dios!" exclaimed Mendoza, kicking his horse's flanks, spurring him hard. He covered the distance in a flash and jumped off his horse scaring the bird away. The vulture flew away only a few meters and stopped in a rock, looking back with interest. When Mendoza charged towards the scavenger throwing stones, the revolting creature ran away flapping his long wings forcefully to lift his large body, becoming airborne.

"Go away!" shouted the sergeant waving his fist at the bird above him. The vulture slowly glided up in the sky to join the others in their eerie, silent, circling wait.

"Alcalde! Are you all right? Did you fall off your horse?" shouted Mendoza, coming back to the now inert form. Sepúlveda was already by his side, with a horrified look on his face. The corporal pointed at the blood-soaked bandage covering the alcalde's abdomen, and at the trail he had left on the ground. "Madre de Dios!" Mendoza kneeled beside his former boss, fretting, unsure what to do. "What happened?"

"Water," heaved De Soto anxiously.

"Sepúlveda, bring the canteen! Give him some water!" he shouted with a distressed, high pitched tone. "What have they done to you?" said Mendoza noticing the bruises in the alcalde's ghostly pale face. After the initial beating the area around his right eye was swollen and turning purple, the same as his left cheek, and he also had a swollen lip, which had been bleeding from a cut at the corner. However, right now, those were the least of his worries.

While Sepúlveda held the container steady so the alcalde could drink from it, Mendoza started to remove the bandage, to have a look at the wound.

"Leave… that… " said the alcalde between gulps, calmed and pragmatic as he had already accepted his destiny, while the refreshing water ran freely down his neck, inside as well as outside. "…I'm…done…"

"Let me have a look." When he uncovered the wound, Mendoza gasped in shock at the dreadful vision of the eviscerated damaged guts coming through a massive gap in the abdominal wall, and the mixture of blood and intestinal fecal material than covered the whole area. He stood up quickly, heaving with the stench, and he managed to run a few meters before he emptied all the contents of his stomach behind a bush. Sepúlveda followed him shortly after, vomiting the delicious dinner he had enjoyed at the tavern less than an hour ago.

"Cover that up again, please," De Soto asked with a faltering broken voice when the soldiers came back looking green. He was afraid to look at his own wound; he didn't want to know how awful it looked like.

The effort to produce so many words all together got him gasping for air again, causing a wide range of movement in his chest, which made his sharp, broken ribs rub painfully against his lungs. He whined softly, trying to calm down. Anxiety could only make him breathe faster, hurting even more. Mendoza kneeled down beside De Soto for the second time, and with his eyes closed he repositioned the bandage as tight as he could.

"We'll get the doctor! You'll be all right!" cried Mendoza, trying to sound hopeful. De Soto shook his head, wild-eyed. _What it's the point, Mendoza? You should know better_. "The padre, then?" offered the soldier with a shaky tiny voice, gulping. De Soto nodded, more settled when his breathing became steadier and his ribs stopped rubbing the surface of his lungs so badly.

"I'll bring them both!" said Sepúlveda, mounting up his horse, keen to move away from the gruesome scene. He spurred his horse hard and galloped away as fast as he could back to the pueblo.

"What happened? Who did this to you?"

"Diego…" started the alcalde.

"Diego? Don Diego de la Vega? How could he? How…? What…?" De Soto moaned in desperation. He lacked the strength to engage into a full discussion with Mendoza, and he was running out of time. He grabbed the soldier's jacket and pulled him down in a desperate attempt to make him shut up and listen.

"Listen…"

"What? Yes, yes; I am listening."

"Tell… Diego…" De Soto paused again to get some air, panting, with his ribs rubbing again.

"Tell Diego… Yes. What? Tell him what?"

"Roberto…" the alcalde's tone was getting weaker and weaker, and Mendoza had to lean to get his ear closer to the alcalde's mouth. "…Malpartida."

"Roberto Malpartida? Is that the man who did this to you?" De Soto nodded, still breathing heavily. "And Don Diego knows him?" De Soto nodded again. _Well, at least he knew him before,_ thought De Soto, agitated.

"Tell…him…stay…sick."

"What? What do you mean? Tell Don Diego to stay sick?" De Soto nodded. "Why?" De Soto could not elaborate that. It would require too many words.

"Ro..ber..to… at… Don…" he paused again, with a new painful grimace distorting his face. Uncovering his wound had made the area even more painful, if that was at all possible. Disturbing his damaged, inflamed and angry guts had been a bad idea, as they were now in full spasm, creating waves of unbearable pain for him. He cried out, blinking some tears away. Mendoza took off his jacket and folded it to make an improvised pillow, trying to make the injured man a little bit more comfortable.

"Is that better?" De Soto didn't nod this time. Instead, he clamped his hand around Mendoza's and held onto it tightly, with his eyes closed, moaning loudly through a firmly clenched jaw. Mendoza started crying, frustrated as he could do nothing to help the man on the ground, other than shooting him so he would die faster. And he could not do that. "Oh_, Dios mío. Dios mío_. What can I do?" He looked around him, and spotted a stick a short distance away. He leaned to reach it while still holding De Soto's hand, just nearly touching it with his fingertips. Stretching his back to breaking point he managed to grab the stick. He sat up straight again and cleaned some dirt away from the stick by rubbing it on his white shirt. "Here. Take this." He offered the stick to the ailing man, who took it gladly.

De Soto bit hard on the piece of wood like a bulldog until the terrible spasm eased away a little. Then he opened his mouth and let the stick slip down.

"Don…" he started again, but he was exhausted to finish the name. "_Time! I need more time! Shit," _he complained mentally, even if prolonging his time in this world meant more pain to endure.

"Yes, yes! He at Don…" repeated Mendoza. "Who?"

"Miguel," he whispered, nearly inaudible. Mendoza didn't understand him. De Soto lifted his left hand, and tried to point behind him, in the direction of Don Miguel's hacienda.

"Who? Don who? Said that again, please."

"Mi... mi…_mi-erdaaaaa_!" he cried out involuntarily, surprised he could still produce such a loud sound when another powerful spasm sent his guts in knots, tearing apart the already badly damaged tissues. Mendoza put the stick back in De Soto's mouth and grabbed his hand again. He passed his arm behind the alcalde's head and pulled him up a little to help him to breathe better, supporting part of his torso on his thigh. De Soto looked at him with wide open, bulging eyes, in utter panic as the soldier was inadvertently pressing with his leg against his broken ribs, increasing his already unbearable pain to a new threshold. He wanted to thank the faithful, clumsy soldier for his kindness, and tell him to back off, but he couldn't.

"Hold on, mi alcalde, hold on." De Soto was kind of growling like a wild animal now, making the frightened soldier cringe in apprehension. Unfortunately, Mendoza didn't know De Soto's ribs were broken, and he continued to hold onto him tightly for support, trying to help, unaware he was making matters even worse for the injured man.

De Soto managed to endure another full cycle of spasms and the discomfort of his own breathing against Mendoza's leg for a while because he wanted to finish his message, but he couldn't say another word in between, fading gradually away consumed by the constant, dreadful pain. He dropped the stick, as he could not waste any more energy tensing his body as a reaction to the contractions of his damaged intestines, which continued relentlessly tearing themselves apart while trying to carry on with their natural task of squeezing their now spilled contents along.

Close to the end, De Soto relaxed his facial hurting expression and he looked somehow serene, almost showing a hint of a smile, with his mind and soul dissociating from the physical pain at last.

"It doesn't hurt anymore, does it?" asked Mendoza with a tiny voice, pressing on the alcalde's hand, who was gradually relaxing his grip.

De Soto opened his mouth to say the word, but that _"no"_ died in his mouth before he could let it out. His glazed, immobile, blue eyes looked to the infinity into the sky when he exhaled for the last time, lying still in the sergeant's arms.

"Farewell, mi alcalde. _Adiós_," said Mendoza, sobbing like a lost child. He gently closed De Soto's eyes while praying for his soul. "Lord, please, welcome him in Heaven. He had his occasional dark moments, but he was essentially a good man. You know that, as we all did, don't You, Lord?"

He gently placed the inert, lifeless body on the ground and he stood up. He paced up and down the place trying to calm down. The usually quiet soldier was boiling up inside, his face red with rage, clenching his fists imagining what he would like to do to the murderer when he would find him. Because, _he,_ Jaime Mendoza, a Sergeant from the Mexican Territorial Army, was going to avenge the dead man at all costs. From now on, his life's goal would be finding that man: _Roberto Malpartida_. Whoever that son of a bitch was.

ZZZZZ


	23. Chapter 23 - Leonardo Rides Again

**Chapter 44b – Leonardo rides again**

Sepúlveda arrived with Doctor Hernández and Padre Benítez. While the corporal tried to calm down the hysterical sergeant, the doctor approached the inert body. He took the alcalde's wrist, although he had no hope to feel the pulse.

"We are too late." Padre Benítez made the sign of the cross, sighing.

"I'll administer the Last Rites anyway. Poor man." He kneeled down beside him and placed his crucifix on the alcalde's chest while he searched his bag for the _oleum infirmorum_, the oil of the sick.

While the priest was distracted with that task, the doctor partially removed the bandage covering the wound in De Soto's abdomen. He shook his head, upset. That wasn't a stabbing wound; that was a purposely inflicted mortal wound, vicious and unnecessary. During his vast experience as a doctor he had seen many wounds, but nothing like that. He covered it again before the priest could see it, and he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he stood up to approach Mendoza.

"Sergeant Mendoza, did he tell you anything before he died? Do you know who did this?"

"He said Roberto Malpartida did it. Do you know him?" The doctor shook his head. "Well, whoever he is, I am going to find him. He is going to pay for this!" After swearing a stream of colourful insults, something out of character for the usually affable soldier, Mendoza calmed down a bit to continue. "He said Don Diego knows that man. I need to get to the hacienda to ask him who that evil man is."

"Don Diego? Sergeant, you haven't seen him since he had the accident, have you? I don't think he will be able to help you now."

When the priest finished administering the last rites to De Soto, they placed his lifeless body on the cart. Sepúlveda and Padre Benítez drove back to the pueblo while Mendoza and the doctor headed for the hacienda De la Vega.

ZZZ

Victoria, unable to stay under the same roof as Cristina, had already left when the doctor and Sergeant Mendoza arrived at the hacienda.

"Terrible news, Don Alejandro: Alcalde De Soto has been murdered," said Mendoza when Don Alejandro opened the door, inviting them in.

"What? Murdered? He was here not that long ago. What happened?"

Mendoza explained how they had found De Soto half dead thanks to the vultures circling over him. When he described the wound, Don Alejandro looked at the doctor for confirmation, incredulous, as Mendoza's tendency for exaggeration was well known in the territory.

"That's exactly what it was, Don Alejandro: a butchering cut, perfectly calculated so he would survive in agony and without hope for a while, maybe for hours; I don't know for sure how long."

"Yes, exactly; that's how he died: in agony. I'll never forget the way he screamed with the pain. It made my skin crawl." Mendoza was shaking, still in shock, and Don Alejandro made him sit down at the library and served him a glass of brandy. The soldier gulped it down at once.

"De Soto was here after noon, before lunch. That was six hours ago. He was alive then. Where did you find him?"

"Here, at your property. Not too far away from the house, actually, to the East." Mendoza put the glass on the side table with a shaky hand. "I think he knew where he was. There was a trail of…" Mendoza swallowed hard, pausing for a moment, remembering the gruesome scene, "…a trail of blood he left on the ground while crawling in this direction."

Don Alejandro felt quite uneasy listening to Mendoza's account. He had resented the alcalde's attitude that day and was glad to get rid of him for good, but maybe he did care, after all. Maybe that man was dead because he had tried to help them, finding out who was behind the attacks. De Soto had left the hacienda riding South-West, towards San Pedro, not to the East where the soldiers had found him. And to the East was… no other than Don Miguel's hacienda.

"Do you think he was trying to get here?"

"Maybe. But I don't know how he could have managed that at all in his condition. But when I found him, he was quite keen to give me a message for Don Diego. Unfortunately, he died before he could finish it."

"What did he say?"

"He told me the name of the killer: Roberto Malpartida. He said Don Diego knows him." Don Alejandro looked at the doctor, who shook his head, sharing the same thought as the old don: Diego maybe _knew _that man. But not now.

"What else?"

"He said that Don Diego should _stay sick_."

"Stay sick? What do you mean?" asked Don Alejandro, puzzled. "Why does he need to stay sick? What Diego needs to do is to get better, and to recover as soon as possible!"

"I don't know what he meant with that. I asked him, but he didn't say. He could hardly talk, and I struggled to understand him. His last word was _mierda_, when he cried out in pain for the last time." Mendoza broke down in tears again. "I couldn't help him. I couldn't do anything to help him!" Doctor Hernández tapped his shoulder, trying to reassure him.

"Nobody could have done anything. I would not have been able to ease his suffering either. At least you were there, and he didn't die alone," said the doctor, kindly, also unaware Mendoza should have stayed away from the dying man instead of pressing on his fractured ribs with his leg.

"When we found him I had to scare away a huge vulture. It was already there, trying to feast on him while he was still alive!"

Don Alejandro was horrified. He self-reproached his own contemptuous attitude towards De Soto just a few hours ago, when he nearly wished the alcalde was dead to him already. The powerful, uneasy feeling of qualm was overwhelming. Nobody deserved that kind of horrible death, not even De Soto. And whoever had killed him knew Diego, and now his son was in great danger too. "_Stay sick. Why? What does it mean?"_

ZZZ

Cristina looked at Diego, coming back to reality when she heard his voice. Sitting by his side, in the same chair Victoria occupied before, she was lost in thought thinking about the tavern owner, and how much she hated her now.

"What did you say?"

"I asked you: why did you fight with that woman?"

Cristina puffed in frustration. _Why, indeed?_

"Because I can't stand her close to you, that's why."

"Why? I don't remember her, but she looks nice. And she said she is my friend. I believe her." She was about to express her feelings about Victoria in the most unlady-like manner, but thankfully they were interrupted when Don Alejandro and the doctor entered the room with Mendoza.

"Diego, do you remember Sergeant Mendoza?" asked Don Alejandro, with little hope.

"Good evening, Don Diego. How are you?" said the soldier, with a forced smile on his face. Diego looked at him with his empty stare, aloof. He didn't have a clue, of course. Diego looked back at Don Alejandro to answer his question.

"No, I don't." Then he stared back at Mendoza, narrowing his eyes. "Who are you, again?"

"I am Sergeant Mendoza, your… _friend?_" said the soldier, uneasy to see Diego so detached and unresponsive. He averted his eyes, because looking at Diego's blank stare was too unsettling for him.

"Sorry. I don't remember you. But, don't worry; it's not your fault. I don't remember anybody else, either," said Diego, gesturing with his left hand at the other people present in the room. He tried to smile. "Actually, I don't even remember myself. They said my name is Diego, but I could be anybody."

"Do you know who Roberto Malpartida is?" asked Mendoza, still hopeful, but not much.

"Who?"

"Roberto Malpartida. The alcalde said you know him."

"No, I don't remember that name. Who is the alcalde? That man with the white hair who was here before?" asked Diego to his father.

"Yes, Diego. That one. Roberto Malpartida killed him."

"Did he? Why?" Diego felt again a mixture of feelings at the mention of the alcalde's death. But he could not remember anything, no matter how hard he tried. Cristina looked at Don Alejandro, shocked, but she didn't say anything. She had lots of questions, but she didn't want to upset Diego, as he already looked agitated.

"We don't know why, Diego. But we are very worried that man may try to reach you too, because you knew him. Please, try to remember, son!" the old don begged. The look in Diego's eyes changed from blank to sorrow.

"I can't. I want to, but I can't. Sorry. I wish I could."

ZZZ

Mendoza was sad to see his caballero friend so disabled. He was also disappointed because Diego was unable to remember who the killer was. Demoralized, Mendoza left to go back to the pueblo to prepare the funeral for the next day. Until the alcalde's replacement would arrive, the sergeant realized he was the maximum authority in Los Angeles, and he would be in charge of the investigation of De Soto's murder and the arsonist attacks. And he didn't know where to start. He hoped his other _friend_, Zorro, would show up to help him.

ZZZ

After the sergeant left, the doctor had a look at Diego's wound again. Pleased with the progress, he stitched up the skin over the small hole on the skull. The gap should heal all right with time, growing new bone over it to close the defect caused by the drill bit.

"Doctor, you have to help me to remember," asked Diego while the doctor applied a light bandage on his head. "I know it is important. I can feel it, but I don't know what it is."

"Sorry, Diego. There is nothing I can do. If I could, I would have done it already. The good news are: your wound is healing nicely; you are recovering quite fast and you should be up and about soon; and you are able to move your hand now. For your memories, we'll have to wait and see."

ZZZ

In the meantime, away from Diego, Cristina questioned Don Alejandro at the library.

"What happened exactly? How did the alcalde die?"

"For what Mendoza described, he was savagely murdered. He knew the killer, and he said Diego knows him too."

"Do you think that man will try to kill Diego too?"

"I don't know. I am afraid so. Apparently, despite his mortal wound, De Soto was crawling on the ground trying to get here to warn Diego about that man. He died before he could deliver his whole message to Mendoza."

"De Soto? Acting like a hero? That's hard to believe," she said, disdainful. "You are talking about the man that blackmailed Diego to do his dirty laundry as Zorro!"

"What? De Soto didn't know Diego was Zorro!"

"Oh, yes, he knew. He knew before you did. I think he lied at the hearing, but then he blackmailed Diego to keep appearing as Zorro to capture criminals for him."

"What? How do you know that?"

"Do you remember _El Gavilán,_ and his band?" The old don nodded in silence. "Why do you think Diego tried to capture them on his own? They were too dangerous. De Soto forced him to risk his life many times, until I menaced him as the Italian. I think he was afraid of Leonardo since I disarmed him at the tavern." Don Alejandro looked at her mesmerized. So many secrets, so many conspiracies that had been going on under his nose, and he didn't have a clue.

"Who killed _El gavilán_?"

"I did."

"What?" Don Alejandro had to sit down, shaking. It was too much.

"He was about to kill Diego. I had to. I don't regret it. I also killed Vladimir's brother when they attacked Zorro by the ravine, when Vladimir sliced Diego's arm so badly. And I would have kill Vladimir too, but Diego didn't when he had the chance, only a few days before the Russian left the pueblo to get to Monterey, and now I have to suffer the consequences of having Victoria around." Don Alejandro looked at her, speechless, with his mouth open, surprised by her actions and the harsh angry tone she used to describe them. _Who are you?_

"But… but…" he started, stammering. _And what about De Soto? Was he a scumbag or not? Should I pity him at all, or continue to despise him as before?_

"Why would De Soto try to warn Diego then? Because he knew he was Zorro? Maybe the alcalde wasn't as heartless and uncaring as he pretended to be. Maybe the man had a conscience after all, and was also playing a role, as you two were?"

"But he saw Diego. He knew his condition, and he knew Diego would not remember the killer at all. Why bother to warn him then? It doesn't make sense. I don't think we will ever find out, unless Diego recovers his memory."

"Maybe what he really wanted to tell him was to _stay sick_."

"Is that what he said?" Cristina asked, thinking hard.

"Yes, according to Mendoza, he said: _"tell Diego stay sick."_

"Maybe he meant Diego should pretend he still can't remember anything and he is disabled so the killer doesn't consider him a menace, even if he recovers. He could pretend he can't remember and can't move his right arm, and at the same time recover and act as Zorro, and hunt the killer. That way, nobody could suspect anything about him."

"That would make sense. But, how are we going to re-train Diego as Zorro?"

"I could teach him to fence, and you can teach him to ride on Toronado." He looked at her, amazed again. She looked serious!

"Really? You are unbelievable, Cristina." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Do you have a better idea?" Don Alejandro shook his head.

"No, I don't. Training Diego as Zorro when he recovers is not a bad idea, but what about that Roberto Malpartida? How can we find out who he is? He is around, and he is the greatest menace at the moment," Don Alejandro said, with obvious worry in his voice.

"We should ask Felipe. Maybe he knows about that mysterious man. Diego may have mentioned him at some point."

"Good idea. Let's go." 

ZZZ

Cristina and Don Alejandro went to see Felipe in his room. The poor young man had bandages covering the painful burns in his arms and head. He was a sorry sight.

"Sorry to disturb you, Felipe, but I need to ask you something."

"What?" he said, making a great effort to say that single word. Don Alejandro smiled happily when he heard Felipe's voice.

"It is great to hear you talking, Felipe. Well done. How are you?" Felipe smiled back, proudly, and signed he was fine.

"Do you know who Roberto Malpartida is?" Felipe shook his head. "Have you ever heard of him?" Felipe shook his head again.

"He knew Diego, and alcalde De Soto. We think maybe they all met at University. I could write a letter to Madrid to find out who he is, but that would take too long to get a reply," said Don Alejandro.

Felipe signed _"What happened?"_

"That man killed the alcalde. And we think he may try to kill Diego too."

Felipe looked shocked and agitated, and signed fast a few words that they couldn't understand. It wasn't easy for the youngster to sign with the dressings covering his hands.

"Don't worry, Felipe. We'll find out who that man is," said Cristina, determined. "Leonardo is going to have a look at the place where the soldiers found the alcalde."

"No, he is not. That would be too dangerous," said Don Alejandro, firmly.

"Why would that be dangerous? The killer doesn't know me. And I don't think he would be hanging around that spot at all. If we can't have Zorro to find out what happened, at least let the Italian try."

"I have to admit it: right now, you are the closest thing we have to Zorro," said Don Alejandro, sighing. "And you know how to defend yourself."

"Precisely. And I know how to track prints. Let me try. Doctor Hernández can take me to that place."

"All right. But be extremely careful."

"Don't worry, I will. That man doesn't know me. I don't know why I would be in any more danger than anybody else is right now."

ZZZ

Cristina saddled Perseo and rode to Zorro's cave, where she got on with the ritual to cover his white marks with the black paint. She didn't want to risk his father or anybody else recognizing the horse, and her. She changed into the Italian's clothes, applied the facial hair to complete her disguise, and headed out again riding Perseo to the hacienda's entrance. She carried her sword and a loaded gun, just in case, but she hoped she wouldn't need her weapons at all.

At the entrance, she met with the doctor, who was already waiting for her. They rode away heading for the murder scene while Don Alejandro watched them go, rubbing and twisting his hands anxiously.

At that moment, Don Francisco arrived at the hacienda. He had been at his property, checking on the workers that were still there taking care of the cattle, making sure they were all right and they hadn't suffered any further attacks. Cristina saluted him, touching the brim of her hat, pulling it down to cover her face better.

"What is the Italian doing here?" asked Don Francisco when he arrived at the hacienda's entrance. His friend hesitated, unable to cope with so much secrecy, but in the end he respected Cristina's wishes to keep Leonardo's identity a secret. At least from her father.

"Don't worry about that. He is Diego's friend, and Zorro's. He is going to help us."

"Really? That's great. I like him. He saved my life once." Don Francisco smiled, tiredly. He dismounted, accidentally rubbing his injured arm on the saddle, and the hissed in pain. Don Alejandro felt run down on energy and extremely tired himself, but he realized that, comparing with the other men, he could not complain. At least he wasn't injured. _Yet_.

"Yes, he is great." He tapped his friend's shoulder. "Come on, let's go back inside. Let's think about how we can protect Diego if that maniac shows up here."

"What maniac? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, sorry, yes. You don't know. I'll tell you what happened…" he started, walking behind his friend while looking back over his shoulder to the riders galloping away in the distance.

ZZZZZ


	24. Chapter 24 - The Funeral

**Chapter 45 – The Funeral**

Doctor Hernández guided Cristina to the isolated spot where De Soto had died. When they arrived there, a vulture was waddling along the bloody marks left on the ground.

"Look. It is persistent, that one. Go away!" Cristina shouted. She tried to scare the bird in the same manner Mendoza had done before, by throwing stones at it. The scavenger, reluctant to back off the chance of a good meal, successfully avoided the first few stones while running and flapping its huge wings. It landed on a rock and turned to look at her, with a smug irritating expression, like laughing at her. After a few more misses, Cristina aimed more carefully and the last stone hit the vulture's chest. The large, coward bird flew away as fast as it could, disappointed.

Then, without any other distractions, Cristina inspected the ground intently. She followed the trail of dry blood to the brook, where she spotted two sets of foot prints in the soft, muddy soil. She also identified the marks left behind by the alcalde at the river bank when he had crawled out of the water.

"Look. I think he was dumped by the brook. I don't think he was attacked here; he wasn't even standing. There are no signs of struggle, and there are wheel markings, from a wide cart." Cristina kneeled down and grabbed something from the ground. "Hay. That shouldn't be there. I bet they hid him under a pile of hay, in the cart."

"So, the killer didn't stab him here," said Doctor Hernández.

"I don't think so. Let's follow the cart prints. See where they lead to." The wheel marks mixed with the ones left behind by Sepúlveda's cart across the field. She followed the marks easily to the road, but then she lost them among the large number of prints on the ground. Unfortunately, she wasn't such an expert at tracking as Diego.

"It is not so easy on the road. I can't distinguish these ones from the other wheel marks."

"Yes. It is difficult. I can't either," said the doctor. "We need Zorro for this."

"I bet the prints lead to the hacienda that slimy Don Miguel bought, to the East, in that direction," she said, pointing to her right.

"I don't know. But don't go there on your own; it could be dangerous. And it's getting dark. You should go back to the hacienda, and I have to return to the pueblo."

ZZZ

Cristina returned to the Hacienda de la Vega in the evening. She quickly changed her clothes at the cave, and then entered the library through the secret passage at the fireplace. On her way to Diego's room, she bumped into her mother.

"Where is Sofía? I've only seen her briefly today. I am afraid she may think I am ignoring her," she said, apologetically.

"Don't worry, dear. She is all right. She is with Diego."

"Is she? What is she doing?"

"Go and have a look," said Doña María Luisa, smiling.

Cristina walked to her marital room, curious. She found Sofía cozy in bed with Diego, pointing at the pictures in a book. He was reading her a child's story, as he used to do every evening before the accident.

"Mamá!" she called when she saw Cristina by the door. "Papá reading a story. He still knows reading!"

"Yes. That's a good thing. The doctor said many patients with amnesia can't remember how to write and read, or even talk, sometimes. Thankfully, daddy can remember all that, still."

"But he don't remember me, or what we do yesterday," she giggled.

"_Yesterday_? I think you probably mean _last week_, sweetie, not yesterday. And what did you do then?" Cristina asked, trying unsuccessfully to look serious.

"It's a secret. But I'll tell you, mamá. We got little frogs. In a jar. I still have them," the little girl laughed.

"Do you mean tadpoles? Little dark creatures with a big head and a long tail?"

"Yes! They swim very fast, you know?"

"Yes, they do, don't they? Well, as you are enjoying a little bit of time with your _papá,_ I'll talk to your _abuelo _now. Just be gentle with your daddy, all right? And you know what I mean with that: no bouncing on the bed!"

"All right mummy. No bouncing. Only reading." She looked suspiciously too serious.

"But you just bou…" Diego started.

"Shhhhh…!" Sofía put her finger over his lips to stop him, looking crossed. Cristina had to laugh. However, coming out of the room, she stopped laughing. Diego wasn't the same at all. Actually, he behaved like a child most of the time, and he was quite slow to process any information. As with everything else, she hoped those symptoms were also temporary and he would go back to his usual self. Otherwise, the plans to recover a fully operational Zorro would not work at all.

ZZZ

Cristina wanted to talk to Don Alejandro in private, but her father was also sitting at the library with him, resting after such a long day, still coughing from time to time. She resorted to lie to get rid of him.

"Father, Sofía wants to see you. She is with Diego. They are reading a book."

"Are they? That's a good sign for Diego, isn't it?" Tired, he stood up slowly and turned to look at Don Alejandro. "Well, as I am the best _abuelo_ in the house, she is calling for _me_. Sorry, old man," he said, teasing his friend, who just waved, feigning annoyance.

"I am sorry. I didn't get much information," Cristina said when her father had left the room. "I am sure whoever killed De Soto didn't stabbed him by that brook. They moved him in a cart with hay and they dumped him there, but I couldn't follow the prints on the road. Too many different wheel marks on the _camino grande_. Diego would have been able to do it, but not me. Sorry."

"Don't worry. You did well. What should we do now?"

"We have to talk to Diego. I think he should attend the funeral tomorrow and _"stay sick"_ as De Soto said, in public. We have to convince the killer Diego is no longer a menace for him, and that his disability will be permanent."

"And we need to tell Diego about Zorro, and our plan," Don Alejandro added.

"Yes, we do, but I am worried he may not be able to grasp the whole concept of Zorro, and what it means to be him. Have you noticed that he seems… How can I put it? _Very slow,_ sometimes?"

"Yes, he does. But it comes and goes. Other times he is more… _alert_?"

"Yes. Hopefully his confusion will improve quickly. And he'll go back to normal."

"Let's talk to him then," said Don Alejandro, standing up quickly, eager to try.

ZZZ

Don Francisco took Sofía to bed while the "conspirators" talked to Diego about the alcalde's funeral, and Zorro.

"Son, there is something we need to tell you. Before you had the accident, you had a secret identity. You damaged your head while you played that character. Alcalde De Soto knew your secret, and we think he was trying to tell you something important before he died, so you could do something about it."

"How could I? I can't remember anything," said Diego.

"Precisely. But someone out there, the killer, may think that you still do," said Cristina. "Part of the message De Soto delivered to Sergeant Mendoza was: _tell Diego stay sick._ I think he meant that you should look worse than you do."

"We need you to look disabled tomorrow at the funeral, son. Pretend you can't move your right hand, and your whole arm, just as before. It doesn't matter if you can now. And drag your leg behind, as you did before, too."

"Why? I am happy I can move my hand now. And I am glad I can walk straight rather than falling over."

Cristina sighed. It was going to be difficult to get Diego to comply.

"Yes, you are. So are we. So glad. However, the killer may think less of you if you can't move or remember anything, you know? Otherwise, if you are a menace to him, he may try to kill you as well," said Cristina, uneasy. She was painfully aware that a killer who would just ignore a disabled Diego was a nice thought. Pure wishful thinking. Actually, Diego could be facing a greater danger if the killer would consider him such an easy target. That man could be tempted to get on with the unnecessary murder, nonetheless, out of habit. Despite her worry, she kept those thoughts for herself. After all, De Soto probably had a reason to warn Diego to do that.

"All right," said Diego, processing the information at his slow speed. "I'll try."

"Son, before the accident you had a secret identity: _Zorro_," said Don Alejandro. Cristina looked at him, annoyed. She didn't think it was a good idea to mention that to Diego, as he looked unreliable to keep that information to himself. But Don Alejandro thought it was worth it, just in case the mention of that name would get some of his memories back.

Diego was drinking water then, and he stopped and looked at them with an odd expression. Don Alejandro, hopeful, thought for a moment the name had triggered some connection in his brain, but then his son started coughing, spluttering water everywhere. Cristina ran to his side, took the glass from his shaky hand and tapped his back, trying to help.

"I am all right," Diego said when his throat had cleared. "What were you saying?"

Don Alejandro continued, frustrated and disappointed. "That you are Zorro. Do you recognize that name?"

"What name?"

"Zorro."

"Who?"

"Zorro!" shouted Don Alejandro, exasperated.

"The Fox? Who's that?"

"You!" Don Alejandro pointed at his son repeatedly with his index finger. "You are!"

"Me? I thought you said I am Diego, not Zorro."

"Please, stop it. You are driving me crazy! _Me estás volviendo loco_!" Sometimes, talking to Diego had become and annoying task for his father, like talking sense to a three year old child. Actually, explaining things to Sofía was easier. However, it wasn't Diego's fault; it was that fog in his mind, which sometimes grew thicker. Like right then, at the worse possible moment, when his father was trying to get that vital information across.

"I don't know what you are talking about," said Diego, uninterested.

"Zorro is a hero, a legend. I recently found out that you are him, after many years that you kept that secret from me."

_So?_ said Diego's face with his blank stare. No need for words there.

"Zorro dresses in black, and has a black stallion called Toronado," Don Alejandro continued.

"All black? Nice, I like it. _Matching_," he mocked.

"Well, you chose your outfit when you created him, son. I am sure you had your reasons then!" said Don Alejandro, impatient. Not only Diego was not listening, he was annoyingly humoring him as well. "I talked to Cristina, your wife."

"Me," she waved, just in case. It looked like they had chosen the worse moment to talk to Diego. He didn't seem to care about anything. "_Bad idea, this is," _she thought. However, there was no coming back, now that Zorro had been mentioned.

"We are going to try our best to make you remember everything you knew, from riding to sword fighting. She can teach you most of these things you have forgotten."

"Can she use a sword? She is a woman," said Diego, looking surprised, and disgusted as well. She looked at him. "_Where are you, Diego? Who's this person in your body?"_ she thought, shaking her head.

"Well, she can. And for what I heard, she is better than you. Obviously, not so strong, but she definitely has the skills to fight with a sword. She can re-train you, because right now we need Zorro at our side. And you have to learn to defend yourself, in case that mysterious killer on the loose attacks you."

"About that… You want me to go to the funeral of that man with the white hair, and pretend I can't move my arm at all, and look… _slow_? Is that it? That can't be too difficult. I already feel quite foggy." At least, he admitted that himself.

"Of course you do, Diego," said Cristina. "But that will pass, hopefully, so don't worry. What you need to do tomorrow is to look _really_ foggy. I mean, hardly talking any sense at all, and even drooling when you talk. And the most important thing:_ don't say anything about Zorro._ Nothing at all. We can walk around with you, supporting your arms, so we keep an eye on you."

At that moment, they were interrupted by a servant calling Don Alejandro.

"Three soldiers arrived from the garrison, señor. They say Sergeant Mendoza sent them to guard Don Diego in case the killer would try to reach him during the night, or the arsonists would try to burn the house down again," said the house keeper.

"Thank you, Lucía. I'll be back in a moment," said Don Alejandro to Cristina.

After he left, Cristina continued talking to Diego. They were running out of time for explanations, as the soldiers probably had instructions to stay in Diego's room.

"Please, don't mention anything about Zorro, Diego. Not tonight, not tomorrow. Not ever, unless you are talking to us. Please, remember that. It is important." Diego nodded, serious. At least, he seemed to understand the severity of the situation. "And don't worry about pretending to be sick tomorrow. I am sure you can do it; I have faith in you. After all, you have been fooling everyone with your acting for so long, Diego. You kept Zorro a secret for years. You must have that skill still there, inside you," she said, pointing at his heart.

ZZZ

Two of the soldiers stayed with Diego all night while the other guarded the window outside. Diego didn't talk to them at all, pretending to be asleep most of the time to avoid any mishaps. With his eyes closed he kept thinking hard, trying to remember why he had pretended to be that mysterious "Zorro", and why it was so important, but he could not recall anything. However, he had the strong feeling that he should follow Cristina's instructions and keep quiet about it. The next morning, after a peaceful night with no incidents, Cristina and Don Alejandro helped Diego to get ready for the visit to the pueblo to attend the funeral. He still had the light bandage covering his wound, and he looked pale and gaunt. No need to pretend about that at all.

Doctor Hernández had checked Diego earlier and he had agreed his patient was well enough to get on with the charade, pretending to be sicker than he actually was. His role would be to spread a rumor at the pueblo, telling everybody that Diego's disability would be permanent, although he was astonished about his fast recovery. It looked much longer than three days, with all the events that had happened since, but that was the time when he had to drill a hole in Diego's skull to save his life, only three days ago. It had to be another miracle.

"Remember, Diego. No talking. Only gibberish, and drool if you can," said Cristina.

"I could use a lemon for that," said Diego.

"How do you know that? How come you remember all the silly details, but not the important things?" asked Don Alejandro, grumpy. Diego shrugged his shoulders.

"What do you mean? How could I know _why_ I know what I still know? I have no idea."

"All right. That's enough wondering. The lemon may be a good idea. I'll take one," said Cristina. "Now, let's get to the carriage." They walked down the corridor with Diego trying to drag his leg behind. Pretending was more difficult of what he had anticipated. Dragging is leg on purpose actually made him out of balance, and he nearly fell off.

"I don't know if I can keep up with this all morning," he complained.

"Of course you can. You are doing great. Now, drop you right shoulder more. Remember: you can't move that arm at all." Diego groaned, annoyed. It was going to be a long morning!

ZZZ

The De la Vegas and the Blascos arrived at the pueblo escorted by the soldiers. Felipe had stayed at home, still nursing his painful burns. Most of the citizens of Los Angeles were already gathered by the church, inside and outside, waiting for the service to start. Nobody was crying. Some people were even laughing and making the most of that social event, not in the slightest sad or affected about the former alcalde's death. Only Sergeant Mendoza seemed to be emotional about it. If anything, the villagers were worried about the way De Soto had died rather than the fact he was dead. Nobody liked the idea of that unknown ruthless killer loose in the territory.

Cristina scanned the crowd looking for new faces, wondering if that mysterious Roberto Malpartida would attend the funeral. She was surprised to find so many. A significant number of Mexican settlers had arrived recently, looking for a fresh start. There were some wealthy landowners as Don Miguel, as well as vaqueros, traders, peasants... even new beggars, as the one by the church's entrance, who sported and unkempt, matted, long hair and beard. Cristina smirked. If De Soto was still alive, he would not allow such a scruffy looking man on the streets of "his" pueblo.

Victoria approached them to salute, followed by Pilar. She ignored Cristina as if she wasn't there.

"Buenos días, Don Alejandro. Diego. How are you today?"

He answered with a blurred, babbled: "_All right, thank you_," followed by a very convincing drooling through his open mouth, and a false step that made him lean heavily on his father to avoid a fall, staggering.

Don Alejandro smiled to Victoria with and embarrassed grin, sadly shaking his head. He hated to see the genuine disappointment in Victoria's face, but there wasn't much he could do. They had to stick to the plan. They kept advancing to the church's entrance, slowly.

"How can he be so sick again? He was all right yesterday, talking to me nicely," said Victoria to Pilar, with great sadness in her voice. They were at the plaza, within hearing distance of the other people present. Actually, Cristina heard her too.

"Hold on for a second," said Cristina. She let go of Diego to approach Victoria quickly, and grabbed her by the elbow to take her away from the crowd.

"Don't you dare to touch me!" screamed Victoria, pulling her arm off Cristina's grip with a fast, violent move, keeping her fist up and ready to punch her nemesis if necessary.

"Shut up! Diego is in danger. He has to pretend he is sicker that he actually is. Could you play along, please?" whispered Cristina in a low voice. "Don't do it for me; do it for him."

"Is he in danger? Why? From what?" Victoria asked, surprised, lowering her fist slowly, as well as her voice.

"From the man who killed De Soto, whoever he is. Please, don't make a scene, and don't draw attention. Smile," she said, forcing a grin on her face. Victoria did the same, even less convincingly than Cristina. "Now, if you are going to spread any gossip, at least help us by telling everybody how sad you are he is not improving, and how did you hear the doctor saying he is unlikely to improve at all, or to recover his memory, e_ver_. All right? Can you do that?" asked Cristina through her radiant false smile.

"Yes, I think so," said Victoria, with a similar, odd, smiley expression.

"Thank you. Much appreciated." Cristina came back to grab Diego's right arm, the one that was dangling as if it belonged to a rag doll, and they continued the way to the church. Victoria stood still, baffled, looking at them wondering what was all that about.

ZZZ

Diego performed his role of impaired man to perfection. Cristina could feel all the eyes on them, and the continuous rumour of gossip surrounding them. She even heard the expression _"Look at him. It's such a shame!"_ several times. _Not bad_, she thought. She kept looking at the crowd searching for a menacing man, someone who should have his crimes written all over his face, but she didn't see anybody fitting that description. If the killer wasn't there, at least she hoped the gossip of Diego's condition would reach his ears soon.

Padre Benítez talked at length about De Soto's _"virtues",_ causing some sniggering among the crowd, while Mendoza cried like a baby on the first row. Cristina, as well as most people in the crowd, didn't shed a single tear.

When they all came out of the church to get to the graveyard, Diego was so good with his acting he even dropped to the ground on purpose when Don Alejandro let go of his arm, distracted for a moment while giving alms to the beggar at the door.

The beggar leaned forward to help Diego up, quite close to his face, and he stared directly into his eyes. With his blank expression, Diego mumbled a _"thank you."_

"Not at all. _Gracias a ustedes_," said the beggar. He watched Diego wobble along towards the graveyard with a sinister smile hiding under his long, unkempt beard.

ZZZZZ


	25. Chapter 25 - Master and Pupil

**Chapter 46 – Master and pupil**

Mendoza carefully placed the picture of Machiavelli on top of De Soto's coffin. While the pine box was lowered into the large hole in the ground, the picture balanced over it precariously, sliding from side to side, but it didn't fell off the top. That man was the alcalde's hero for some reason, and the sergeant thought he would like to have him close to keep him company. The first shovelful of dark brown soil fell on the man's face, covering it completely.

While Sepúlveda and another soldier worked with the shovels to cover the coffin with soil, Cristina kept scanning the crowd for a suspicious face. She still could not see anybody fitting the description of a killer. Suddenly, she had a disturbing thought: the beggar at the church's entrance. She could not see his face clearly with all that facial hair covering it.

"Excuse me for a second," she said to Don Alejandro. "Hold on to him." Curious, Diego wanted to turn around to find out where she was going, but his father tagged at his sleeve when he started to turn.

"Focus," he whispered. "Not long now. Keep still." Diego rolled his eyes, tired of the pretense, but he stood there, quiet, leaning onto his father for support. His right shoulder dropped so low that his back was twisted and he looked hunchbacked. He thought about the lemon, and he imagined having a slice in his mouth. As a result, his salivary glands produced a large amount of fluid that he simply let overflow by the corner of his lips. The director at the theatre company in Madrid would have been proud of his performance. Diego didn't remember it, but that was the man who, a few years ago, had told him about the lemon trick, which could also make the actors cry with a single drop squeezed on their eyes.

Cristina came back to the church's entrance. The beggar wasn't there. She looked around her, along the crowd gathered at the graveyard behind the church, and the few people still in the plaza. The beggar was nowhere to be seen. She had a powerful feeling telling her the scruffy man was the killer, the one she had been looking for all day. But she had realized too late, and he was gone. At least, if that was actually De Soto's killer, he had seen firsthand that Diego would not be able to recognize him, because he hadn't when the beggar helped him to stand up. She whispered a curse, blaming herself for the lapse. _How did I let him go? Why didn't I realize before?_

ZZZ

Roberto Malpartida had thoroughly enjoyed the sight of a disabled Diego de la Vega. Don Miguel was right: he looked retarded. Roberto considered for a moment to kill him in a similar manner he had killed De Soto, with intense suffering, but after he heard the doctor stating it was very unlikely Diego would recover from his injuries, he decided to let him be. In his current state, Diego could not interfere with his plans, and it would be entertaining to watch that pompous bookworm struggling. If he recovered, he could always dispatch him later, if necessary. Although, he knew that decision could be a bit risky, because De la Vega could recover his memory at some point and recognize him. Roberto shrugged his shoulders. It didn't matter. It was worth watching Diego in trouble. To him, ending Diego's life now would be like making him a favor. And Roberto did no favors.

When most of the people in the crowd headed for the cemetery, the mysterious man left the pueblo, as there was no need to hang around any longer. He had already seen what he wanted to see. Diego de la Vega wasn't an issue, and he could not see anybody else in the pueblo that could recognize him.

Before he left, he sent a last lustful look at De la Vega's wife. What a lucky bastard that man was. She was stunningly beautiful, and he wondered if he could try some later on, during the next stage of his plan. That would be another humiliation for Diego. After all, she looked like the kind of woman who would get bored of a disabled husband quite quickly, and he could be charming and hypnotically luring like a cobra when he wanted to. However, the easier prey would be that petite brunette, the tavern owner, also a very attractive woman. As a widow, she should be missing what he had on offer. With that promising thought, Roberto smacked his lips and got onto the horse he had left hiding behind the row of houses, at the end of the pueblo.

ZZZ

Over the next few days, the Hacienda de la Vega was quiet. They didn't suffer any further attacks, and the soldiers had stopped guarding Diego. Felipe had recovered quite nicely from his injuries, the same as Don Francisco, who was busy trying to rebuild his hacienda.

Diego had regained more control on his right hand, and had recovered most of his former strength on it. His mental fog hadn't lifted, though. He still could not remember anything, and his personality had permanently changed, transmuted into that annoying, childish, arrogant and egocentric nature Cristina disliked so much.

That afternoon, as Diego was recovering so well, at least physically, they were at the secret cave having the first fencing lesson. Unfortunately, Cristina was losing her patience rather too quickly already.

ZZZ

Don Miguel could not believe his eyes. His boss looked like a totally different person. After an intensive session of grooming and scrubbing all that dirt off his menacing persona, the man in front of him was unrecognizable. He looked smart in his brand new and expensive clothes, like a wealthy caballero would. He didn't just walk; he strutted along with a particular authoritarian swagger, but at the same time he looked charming and approachable. He oozed charisma, and he knew it.

"You certainly scrub up well. Who would have thought?" said Don Miguel.

"Years of practice, _amigo_," said Roberto, winking through a mischievous smile. Despite his apparent lack of hygiene during all that time posing as a beggar, his teeth were sparkling white; another one of the assets on his handsome face. "Come on, let's go. We can't be late. Gather the men."

ZZZ

"You are doing it wrong, Diego. Don't hold the handle so stiff. Be more flexible. Look, like me. I don't need so much force to keep the sword balanced. The stiffer you are, the easier it is to disarm you." To prove her point, she suddenly slammed her sword over Diego's at the weakest point, close to the tip. He lost the grip on his weapon, which fell heavily to the ground with a loud clank, bouncing off it at least once before it lay still. "See?" Diego leaned over to collect his practice sword, annoyed.

"Yes, very funny. You can do that only because I can't remember how to fence," he said, bitter.

"Of course, Diego. If you could remember, we would not be here wasting time on the basics," she retorted. _Whatever happened to the old Diego?_ This new Diego was a handful, unruly and rebellious. He behaved like a snotty brat who would complain about anything. And she had to put up with him. Cristina wondered if all that grief and trouble she was getting from the new, demanding Diego, was worth the effort. After all, she had been pestering him before about giving Zorro up for good, and now that Diego could finally "forget" about his alter-ego, she was trying to get him back! She sighed. It didn't look like a wise move at all. But, Zorro or not, Diego had to learn to defend himself. That vicious killer was still lurking out there.

They continued practicing some movements, and then Cristina demonstrated the basic fencing positions of the sword. After she adopted them a few times, slowly, she explained how he should position the sword and the reasons behind each move, demonstrating which lines he would be protecting. Then, she asked him to follow the moves with her.

"Look: first…second… third…" Diego tried to imitate her, but he got them all wrong.

"No! Pay attention, will you? Again: First." She flicked her wrist, pointing with the sword downwards. Diego copied her. "Good. That's very good, Diego. Now, second." He got it wrong again. "No! Lower! Otherwise you are not covering that line much."

Upset, Diego threw the sword to the ground. "This is ridiculous. I can't remember anything, and I can't use my hand properly yet, you know? Don't push me," he complained. Cristina sighed, and relaxed her arm.

"I know that, Diego. That's why we are going so _slow_. You were capable of so much more with the sword before! You were _the best_." Diego calmed down a bit, pleased by her compliment. "I hope you manage to recover all that knowledge, which is inside you, hiding there somewhere."

"Do you think so?" he asked, hopeful.

"Yes. Come on, pick up the sword and we'll try again."

Diego leaned over again and got his weapon off the floor. He sighed, and got on guard. "First… second… third…" he started, but he got it all wrong again. He growled in frustration, and threw the practice sword to the ground one more time, across the room. Cristina let out another long, tired sigh, realizing how difficult it was going to be bringing Zorro back. If ever.

ZZZ

Roberto and some of his men were waiting by the road, impatiently. According to the scouts that were patrolling the _camino grande_, the new alcalde was finally on his way to Los Angeles and should arrive there that afternoon. He travelled in his own carriage, alone with his driver, without a military escort. "_How naïve_," thought Roberto. The new alcalde was clearly a fool as he didn't think he would encounter any trouble on his way from Chihuahua, in Mexico.

One of the scouts came galloping fast around the bend on the road, interrupting Roberto's thoughts. "He is coming!" he shouted.

"All right. You know the drill. Hide until the carriage stop. And try not to shoot them near to the carriage. I need it clean." The men laughed at his words, and took the horses to hide in the nearby wood at the side of the road.

Roberto stood on the road on his own. When he finally saw the carriage approaching, he started walking towards it, limping noticeably. When he was close, he waved at the driver, asking him to stop. The driver turned his head to talk to the passenger at the back. Nodding, he pulled from the reins and made the horses stop close to the handsome caballero in trouble.

"Thank you for stopping," said Roberto, saluting the driver. He approached the carriage window to talk to the passenger. "I fell off my horse and twisted my ankle. I need to get to Los Angeles. Can you help me, please?" asked the limping caballero, with a hopeful smile.

"Where is your horse? Did it run away?" asked Gabriel Salamanca, the new alcalde, leaning off the window.

"He certainly did, the ungrateful beast!" laughed Roberto. With a fast move, he reached for the loaded guns he carried at his back, under his jacket, and aimed them at the surprised men. "Don't move!"

His men came out of the wood and surrounded the carriage in a flash.

"Climb down the box, please," asked Roberto to the driver. The frightened man complied, quickly. "And you, señor Salamanca. Come out of there, please."

"How do you know my name?" Roberto opened the side door and the new alcalde came out of the carriage, looking angry.

"I know everything about you, señor. Such a boring life you had. But I am going to work hard to improve your record, don't worry." Gabriel Salamanca looked at him, puzzled, not understanding the meaning of his words. "Walk with me, please." Reluctantly, they walked a few steps in front of him, to the side of the road, away from the carriage. He stopped but let them walk a few more steps in front of him. He had so much experience in the matter that he knew exactly how far he had to position himself from his victims so the blood would not reach him to stain his clothes. "Stop, you are fine were you are. Please turn around." When they did, the driver fell on his knees, crying, begging for his life.

"Please, don't kill me! Don't kill me!" He was a pathetic sight that made Roberto laugh.

"And what do you think it was going to happen, you fool?" He fired the gun in his left hand, hitting the driver's chest, in his heart.

"Bastard! Who the hell are you?" shouted the new alcalde, enraged. He feared for his life, but he could not believe what was happening.

"Who am I?" laughed Roberto again, with his sinister smile. "I tell you who I am: _Gabriel Salamanca_." He fired the second gun. The bullet hit the man between his eyes, killing him instantly. The unfortunate man fell backwards, already dead when he hit the ground. In addition to his ability to kill slowly and painfully, Roberto was also an expert in killing people quickly when he had to. He approached the dead man and searched his clothes, taking his personal effects, documents, watch and money.

"Bury them. Deep. They should not be found. Ever," he ordered to his men. _Gabriel _climbed up the carriage and closed the door behind him. Leaning off the window, he tapped at the side of the door impatiently. "_Vamos_, Armando. Drive me to _my_ pueblo," he ordered to the man who was going to be his driver. "And the rest of you, clean all that mess in the ground, too. Don't leave any clues of what happened here." Armando climbed up the driver's box and urged the tired horses to a gentle trot, heading for Los Angeles.

ZZZ

"Wait. Let's try something. Maybe you are trying too hard and we need a new approach," Cristina said. She got to the clothes' rack and grabbed Zorro's mask. She folded it and came back to Diego. "Try this. Try blindfolded. Don't think about what you are doing, just feel it, and see what happens."

"Blindfolded? Are you crazy? How can I fence if I don't see your blade coming?"

"At the moment, we are only practicing the positions, you big oaf! Nothing is going to happen to you, don't worry. I am not piercing your heart!" she laughed. "We are not even wearing the protective masks! And these are the practice swords, anyway. They are blunt." He let her tie the folded mask over his eyes, reluctantly, wondering what she really meant with that _"big oaf"._

"Don't think. Just feel the blade. Let it move. Let it guide you," she said, with an enchanting tone. "Feel the flow… Feel the flow… Up… down…left…right…" Diego started to move the sword slowly, randomly at first, in every direction, but then, proper fencing guarding and parrying positions emerged from the randomness.

"Don't think, Diego. Just don't think. Follow my voice." She waited for a moment, and then she ordered in a firm voice: "_Quarte_."

Diego's blade adopted that position immediately, as if the sword itself could force Diego's hand to the left quadrant, rather than the other way round. His position looked perfect. Like a picture on a fencing book.

"Sixth." The same happened again. Diego moved the sword to the right position effortlessly, without even noticing it himself. Cristina smiled broadly. _"Yes!"_

"First. Second."

She continued calling the positions, repeating them in sequence and at random, faster and faster. Without thinking, Diego followed the instructions quickly and efficiently, like the master he once was. When she stopped, Diego took the blindfold off, and asked, puzzled:

"What happened here?"

"What we already knew, Diego. You have all the knowledge there, somewhere. You just have to find it, to let it appear. Your memories, your skills… everything. Everything should be there. Even me," she said, hopeful, coming closer to caress his forehead. He smiled.

"I hope you are right. Let me try again." He stepped back away from her and held the sword up again, on guard, and called the positions one more time. "First. Second. Third. Quarte…"

He started in the right way, but pretty soon he reverted to his initial hesitation, confusion, and the badly executed movements of a new fencing student. Frustrated, he threw his sword to the ground one more time, with another childish tantrum. "Why? Why is this happening? I could do this only a moment ago!" he shouted. "It can't be so difficult!"

"I don't know why, Diego. Look, I think there is some kind of a blockage between your memories and reality. Something doesn't let them to be obvious to you. As I said, maybe you are trying too hard to remember." She walked the short distance to collect Diego's sword. "I think we had enough training for today. We can continue tomorrow. Just try to relax, all right?" He looked at her with an odd, upset look in his eyes. Her condescending attitude irritated him so much.

"Don't talk to me like that. I am not a child." Cristina sighed for the umpteenth time that afternoon, also extremely frustrated.

"I am sorry. It is not my intention to upset you. You are right: you are not a child. But unfortunately, since you had that accident, you are sometimes behaving like one." If her words had any intention to calm him down, they had the opposite effect when the already irritated Diego felt even more aggravated. Shaking, he fought with his fencing glove to pull it off his right hand.

"Fine!" he exclaimed, throwing the glove to Cristina's face. "I am done here." He walked upstairs quickly and tried to open the secret entrance, but he couldn't remember how to action the lever. "How do I open this damn door?!" he shouted.

Cristina sighed again, rolling her eyes while shaking her head, and slowly made her way up to the entrance while Diego repeatedly banged the door with his left fist.

She opened the door without looking at the spy hole. Diego stormed into the library, ignoring Don Francisco, who had come close to the fireplace, alarmed by the banging.

"Diego, what's wrong? Where are you going?"

Diego continued walking down the corridor, towards the main entrance, without a word. Intrigued by the opened door at the fireplace, Don Francisco walked through it, finding Cristina by the stairs.

"Cristina, what is this room? What are you doing…" he slowed down when he realized she was dressed like a man, and was holding two swords in her left hand. "…in here…?"

_Maldita sea!_ Cristina thought, with an instant blushing. All those years avoiding her father successfully and he would find out like this, thanks to Diego.

"What is this? Why are you dressed like that? You look like… the Italian!" he realized, in shock. "Why are you holding these swords? What's going on?!" he demanded to know.

"Ask Don Alejandro. He can explain it to you. I am too tired."

She handed him the swords by shoving them into his chest, and pushed him to a side to come out of the secret cave. The door shut closed behind her. She had only walked a few steps when her father banged at the door furiously, the same as Diego had done before. She stopped in her tracks, and hesitated in the middle of the room. She was glad to see Don Alejandro approaching the library.

"What are you two doing? Can you stop the racket? The servants don't know about the cave! And neither does your father!"

"Well, he does now!" she said, pointing at the fireplace. "You deal with him. I can't cope with this right now." She walked away quickly, heading for her room to change her clothes.

Don Alejandro opened the secret door, and Don Francisco stormed out, red-faced and furious like a raging bull.

"Where is she?"

"Calm down, please," asked Don Alejandro, taking the practice swords from his friend's shaky hands. "There are a few more things you need to know…" he started, smiling, remembering his own explosive reaction when he had found out about Diego and Cristina's secret.

ZZZZZ


	26. Chapter 26 - The New Alcalde

**Chapter 47 – The New Alcalde**

Diego got out of the hacienda heading nowhere. He was very upset but he didn't know exactly why, so he tried to recall the whole episode down the cave. Doing so, Diego realized he didn't like his own moody behaviour, but especially, he didn't like the way Cristina had said he had changed so much. If he was so different now, what was his personality before? How much had he really changed? Was he a ridiculous version of his former self, as Cristina had implied? Would he ever be "normal" again? And, what was "normal", anyway?

Outside, he saw Don Francisco's horse tied up to the rail, saddled and ready for his owner. Diego wondered if he would remember how to ride, and decided to give it a try. He had been told he was an excellent rider, and a master with the sword, but so far he had failed on the later, so he wasn't sure if he could handle a horse. Apprehensive, he untied the horse and mounted up the saddle, slowly. Automatically, without much thinking, he gently kicked its flanks to start a trot, and then urged the animal to a gallop. Diego was perfectly balanced on the saddle, and he didn't have any problems. He sighed, relaxing his tension a little. At least, riding came naturally to him.

Delighted to know he could still ride and wouldn't need any lessons as with fencing, he carried on for a while enjoying the exercise and the fresh air on his face, until he headed back home with most of his anger released.

ZZZ

"How could she fool around dressed like a man? She is a lady! And handling a sword, of all things!" Don Francisco was fuming, shouting loudly.

"Calm down, my friend. And lower the volume. The servants don't know," advised Don Alejandro in a low tone.

"How could she do that? Where did she learn to fight?"

"I don't know. But, you saw that Italian in action. She is very good, and she saved your life, remember? And Diego's. Several times. And I am extremely grateful for that."

"She killed people, for Christ sake! This is not a game!" Don Francisco was so shocked with the discovery he didn't know how to handle the information. Similarly to what had happened to Don Alejandro, that concoction of anger for the deception, the embarrassment, the mix of awe and pride, and the added horror for her actions, was too much to accept quietly.

"For what she told me, it had to be done. She is such an extraordinary woman, your daughter. She should have been a man, and you would be proud now, rather than upset."

"That's what she had been saying all her life: _I should have been a man, because only as a son I could have made you proud_," said Don Francisco, shaking, understanding her words now. "But don't tell me you were just _proud_ when you found out Diego's secret. I believed you hit the roof!"

"Of course I did, the same as you! But look at me now: proud as a peacock."

"I need time to digest this. My horse is waiting at the door; I am going to the hacienda to check on the men. Riding will do me some good to calm down, and then I'll talk to her later." The two friends walked to the entrance in silence. When they got there, Don Francisco's horse was missing.

"Where is my horse?" he asked, looking around.

"I don't know. Are you sure it was here?"

"Of course I am! Do you think I am crazy, or so senile I can't remember where I left my horse?"

"Hum… senile… Do I need to answer that question?" Don Alejandro laughed.

"Shut up! I don't call myself _Don Francote_. Not yet, anyway. But, if you all keep pushing my sanity like this, showing heroic hidden talents with the sword and God knows what else, I may start my own quest for Justice. Just to keep up with you, people."

"Look, isn't that your horse?" Don Alejandro had spotted a rider in the distance, galloping towards the hacienda. It looked like his friend's horse. Don Francisco used his hand over his eyes to obscure the sun's glare.

"I think it is! Who is riding it?" The two friends looked intently at the approaching figure. "Is that… _Diego_?"

"Yes, I think that's him. What is he doing out there riding?" asked Don Alejandro, surprised. Then he realized of the implications. "He can ride! He remembers how to ride! Fantastic, that's one load off my mind. I was supposed to teach him how to ride so we could have Zorro back. Cristina was teaching him fencing, down at the cave."

"Was she? My daughter? Teaching Zorro how to fence? You are joking!"

"No. I am telling you. She is really good. I don't know where she got it from, but her technique is superb. You wouldn't last five seconds against her." As much as he hated to admit it, Don Francisco knew his friend was right; he had seen the Italian in action. He would have to accept it: his daughter was an accomplished… swords_man._

ZZZ

The next day, Roberto sat at the high chair at the alcalde's office. _His office,_ from now on. He looked around the room, taking in the austere contents. He quickly thought of some improvements he would like to make to create surroundings more attuned to that alluring, vibrant persona he was trying to create. The _new_ Gabriel Salamanca could not possibly work in such a boring, limited environment.

He looked at the sergeant in front of him, who was waiting for his reactions and instructions. Mendoza reminded him of a tail-wagging, loyal, trusting dog. That fool had accepted him happily as the new alcalde, and he didn't ask to see any proof of identity, or the official documents needed to take command of the post. Roberto had all the personal belongings and official documents from the deceased, but that fool would make everything easier with his gullible nature.

"Where is the former Alcalde? I was told he would stay in a provisional position until I arrived. Has he already left for Spain?" asked Roberto in a polite tone, enjoying the moment.

"No, I am afraid not, mi alcalde." Mendoza swallowed hard. "Don't you know? Alcalde De Soto was murdered two weeks ago."

"Murdered? My goodness! That's terrible. Terrible news. How did it happen? Have you arrested the killer yet?" Roberto had to work hard to keep a straight, shocked, and concerned face. He kept his smile hidden deep inside. All those apparently useless lessons at drama school had finally paid off.

"Someone stabbed his abdomen. And no, I haven't arrested the killer yet," answered Mendoza, uncomfortable.

"Do you know who did it?"

"Yes. The alcalde knew the killer. He told me his name before he died in my arms: _Roberto Malpartida_." Roberto didn't flinch, although he wasn't expecting that at all. He thought De Soto had died by that brook on his own and the sergeant had found him already dead. Don Miguel had failed to pass on that _little_ detail. That was happening because he had to rely on Don Miguel for information, as he was hiding from the public for a few days while waiting for the new alcalde to arrive. That mishap meant Roberto should speed up his plans before anybody could get any information from Spain about that name, as he could not possibly settle in Los Angeles if that ever happened. It would be too risky. _Maldito Ignacio! I should have finished him off faster._

"You said the alcalde died in your arms. Did he suffer a lot from his injuries?"

"Yes, he did. I will never forget the way he screamed in agony, God rest his soul."

"That's shocking! Nobody should die like that," said Roberto, with a huge effort to hide his sly, satisfied smile. _Maybe it was worth it, then._ "Did he say anything else about the killer?"

"No. Only his name. He also said that Don Diego de la Vega knew him as well… but, unfortunately, Don Diego suffered an accident and has lost his memory completely. He damaged his head really badly. He doesn't remember who that man is. He can't even remember his own name." Luckily for Diego, the sergeant didn't mention the advice to _stay sick_.

"I heard about that. It's such a shame for this community to lose such an important pillar." Mendoza nodded in agreement; a real shame. "So, do you know who that man is? Do you know where to find him?"

"Uuuh, aaah… I am following several leads at the moment, yes…" He didn't want to admit he didn't have a clue. During the last two weeks, Mendoza had been waiting for Zorro to appear to offer his help in the matter, but nobody had seen him for a while. He didn't show up to attend the funeral. The Sergeant had sworn over De Soto's body that he would find that man and bring him to Justice, but he was afraid that promise would end up in an epic fail.

Roberto looked at the soldier, serious. _Not a clue. Great_. He had heard the Sergeant was an incompetent fool. It looked like the rumours were right, so he blessed his good luck.

"Don't worry Sergeant. As a representative of the Mexican Government, I can assure you I will do anything in my power to find the killer. No one can murder a provisional Alcalde on our Government and get away with it, even if the man himself was a traitor, loyal to the Spanish Crown." Roberto had to control himself to avoid finishing his sentence with _"and as such, he deserved to die."_

"Thank you, señor," said Mendoza, happy to get help, oblivious to Roberto's harsh tone. He liked the new alcalde. He seemed friendly, and polite, and probably competent in his job. _My life is going to be much better than with the previous two alcaldes, God rest their souls._

ZZZ

That afternoon, the new alcalde gave a speech at the plaza, officially taking charge of the position as Alcalde de Los Angeles.

"Pueblo de Los Angeles, my name is Gabriel Salamanca. I come from the state of Chihuahua, in the former Nueva Vizcaya. I am pleased to make this public announcement: I am your new Alcalde, loyal to the new, independent Government of Mexico," he said, addressing his citizens. He had made an effort to look his best for the occasion, using the best clothes of the real Gabriel Salamanca, with whom, luckily, Roberto shared the same size. The elegant fawn jacket suited his lean, tall figure perfectly. Its light colour contrasted with his shoulder-length, dark hair, and with his tastefully tied, black silk cravat.

"That's a very handsome fella," whispered Pilar to Victoria. The tavern owner nodded, mesmerized. They shared the thoughts of most women in the crowd. That man had a magnetic personality, exerting a strong, attractive power and charm, especially to the ladies.

"Yes. I hope he looks as well on the inside as in his outer façade," Victoria whispered back.

"The first thing I would like to do here is to review the tax system in the territory. I am aware that many irregularities and constant abuse had been the norm under the command of my two Spanish predecessors. While I revise the scheme, I am glad to announce all taxes are temporarily rescinded." People at the crowd clapped and cheered happily.

"Not a bad start, ah?" said Pilar, winking to Victoria.

"Not bad at all!" she agreed. But, the best part for them was about to come.

"I am a man of the people who works _with_ the people, and _for_ the people. As I would like to personally introduce myself to you, my citizens, I'll be delighted to see you all at the tavern this afternoon. Drinks are on me, of course."

"I can't believe this!" gasped Victoria, surprised. "Come on, let's go back to work!" She urged Pilar to go back to the counter, running back to the tavern in front of the delighted _angeleños_ who were already heading that way.

ZZZ

"Nice to meet you, Don Alejandro de la Vega," said the alcalde with a vigorous, manly handshake when the old don introduced himself at the tavern. "I heard about your son's accident. I am very sorry. Do you have any hope he is going to improve?" Don Alejandro hesitated for a moment, as Diego was really improving so fast, but then he realized it would be better to keep the charade until they knew the identity of De Soto's killer.

"No, not really. Doctor Hernández said it would be very unlikely for him to recover."

"What a shame. I hoped he was feeling better, because I need his own signature in the documents pledging allegiance to the Mexican Government if he wants to become a Mexican citizen. I revised all the forms this morning and I realized you signed up for him, and that is not acceptable under _any_ circumstances."

"Excuse me, but, after he had the accident and the doctor had to drill a hole in his head, my son was incapacitated in bed when I signed the documents for him," answered the old don, irritated, looking directly into the alcalde's dark brown eyes, trying to measure him. His irises were so dark they sometimes looked jet-black, matching his black hair and eyebrows. Those eyes were difficult to read, as the colours of the iris and pupil were so similar they created a seamless connection between them. _He looks nice, but I hope he is not one of those unimaginative individuals who do everything by the book._ "We only had five days to sign the documents from the moment alcalde De Soto made the announcement of an independent Mexico. Of course my son could not have possibly been able to sign the forms himself before that deadline, nor now, as his right arm is paralyzed."

"Well, I am afraid he should come to this office himself to formalize his situation. Otherwise, he may risk to be deported to Spain. A simple mark with his left hand would do. Can he use his left hand?" asked Roberto, in the kindest tone he could articulate, his deceiving dark eyes oozing compassion while firmly showing he would not allow irregularities in the pueblo from now on.

"Yes, I guess he could do that. I'll bring him to the pueblo as soon as possible."

"Thank you. May I ask you something, if you don't mind to answer? I understand that you are related to the King of Spain. How come you have decided to stay in California under Mexican rule rather than returning to Spain?"

"Firstly, I am only _distantly_ related to the King. Secondly, California is my home now, where my family is. If I have to become a Mexican to be a Californian, the land I call _home_, so be it. But, if I can speak frankly, I believe my motivations are none of your business, Alcalde."

"No, they aren't. You are right. Sorry for my indiscretion. Nice to meet you, Don Alejandro. Now, if you don't mind, I still have a lot of people to see." He shook the old don's hand again and dismissed him, focusing his attention on the next person at the queue.

"Good afternoon. I am Gabriel Salamanca. Nice to meet you, don…."

Don Alejandro walked to the table at the back, were Don Francisco was drinking his paid-for drink, a glass of red wine.

"So, what do you think? You don't look happy," said Don Francisco.

"No, I am not happy. What a jerk! He wants Diego to sign that stupid allegiance document at the office, in person, as we all did. He said it is inacceptable that I signed it for him while he was sick."

"What? Gosh, he is strict, then. Nonetheless, I think he is all right. Quite nice guy."

"I am not so sure. I don't like him. Yes, he looks nice, but there is something about him. I can't put my finger on it. I hope you are right and I am mistaken."

"There, have some wine. I ordered your favourite: _Vega Sicilia_, the expensive one from your cousin in Valbuena. The Alcalde is paying, so, why not?"

Don Alejandro took his glass. He looked back at the alcalde and they crossed gazes for a moment. The old don lifted his glass and nodded, polite. The alcalde smiled back, and then turned his attention to the next citizen at the queue.

"Why don't you like him?"

"As I said, I don't know. But I don't. Maybe it is because I am even more senile than you and I prefer the devil I know."

ZZZ

"I can't believe these two. Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable," said Don Francisco the next day, shaking his head while watching her skilled daughter give a fencing lesson to no other than Zorro, down at the cave. "Is that why they fell in love with each other? Because they are so similar? Fooling around with their swords, and fooling their own fathers shamelessly?"

"Probably. Who knows?" said Don Alejandro, laughing. "But you have to admit: we were such fools!"

"You were the biggest fool! You should have known about this room!" replied Don Francisco, elbowing his friend.

"Yes, I should." Don Alejandro sighed. "Actually, I did. I knew there was a secret passage from the library, but I had forgotten. You are right. I am the biggest fool."

"Yes, you are, you big oaf!" joked his friend, slapping his back, laughing out loud.

"So, what happened at _the talk_? Have you two finished arguing? It took me a while to accept Diego's secret, I have to admit. All these questions that led to even more endless questions… In the end, I stopped asking. It was easier. And less painful."

"We'll get there, eventually. She was all right, though. We only screamed a little. The usual, actually."

Don Alejandro laughed, and turned his attention back to the fencers. The two friends kept watching the lesson with interest, until Diego lunged to hit Cristina's arm quite hard, making her wince in pain and retreat.

"Ouch! Hey, aren't they getting a bit too rough?" asked Don Francisco, worried.

"Nah. They know what they are doing. They are masters, remember. And they are using practice swords, with blunt tips. Don't worry. She is all right."

ZZZ

Cristina could see a profound change in Diego. His confidence level had soared. He was improving really fast, and was able to follow her instructions quickly and efficiently now. And the best part: no more silly tantrums.

At one point, he caught her off guard when she got distracted looking at her father for a moment; Diego lunged when she stepped forward, and his sword hit her upper right arm rather hard. Despite the protective padded clothes, she was quite sure the blunt tip had pierced her skin. In the past, the former Diego had always controlled himself and had never hit her with such force while practicing. As many times in the past, she wondered if he had been purposely gentle with her before, even letting her win from time to time to keep her happy.

"I think that's enough for today, Diego. You are improving so fast! At this rate, we'll have Zorro back in no time at all," she praised, willing to end the lesson before blood would show through her sleeve, as she didn't want her father or Diego to see that. They both took their protective mask off. Diego was smiling widely under his.

"Yes! My arm is reacting to your sword quite well today. I still don't know how, but, as you said, all that knowledge must be there somewhere," he said, pointing at his forehead. "And my hand works much better when I don't think about what I am supposed to be doing with it!"

"All right. If you have finished fencing, we could go to the pueblo now to sign those documents, Diego. I told the alcalde we would do that as soon as possible," said Don Alejandro.

"That's a good idea. Diego, remember you have to look disabled," said Cristina. Diego nodded.

"Yes, don't worry. Drooling and all that. Got it," he winked.

After the men left, Cristina removed the padded clothing. As she suspected, she had a small wound in her upper arm, bleeding. The whole area was throbbing in pain, and she knew the next day it would show a large, purple bruise. She sighed deeply while she applied pressure to the bleeding spot. She should be more careful from now on if Diego could not control his own strength. If only for her own sake.

ZZZ

Felipe volunteered to drive the carriage to the pueblo. When he stopped at the alcalde's office, Don Alejandro opened the door and stepped out, looking around. There were a few people at the plaza, looking at them with interest.

"We have an audience, Diego. Be careful. Try not to move your right arm and leg much, if you can," he whispered.

"Yes, don't worry. Come around and help me," Diego whispered back.

Don Alejandro and Felipe helped the unsteady Diego to climb down the carriage. When he stepped on the ground with his left foot, he staggered on purpose, and when he used the right leg to steady himself, it gave way and Diego fell in an awkward position. He hit the carriage side with his back, producing a loud noise that made all the heads turn in their direction. A rumour of pity spread at the plaza, with everybody gossiping about Diego's condition.

"Diego, don't over-do it, please. Now we have to get you up," complained the old don. He pulled up, holding Diego under his shoulders. He could lift his son surprisingly easily, as Diego made a great effort to support himself and he lifted his own body slowly while looking floppy to the onlookers at the same time. "How did you do that? You never cease to surprise me, Diego. Come on, let's get on with it." He knocked at the alcalde's office door while holding his son's arm, with Felipe at the other side. Sergeant Mendoza opened the door, smiling happily at the visitors.

"How nice to see you, Don Diego. How are you?"

Diego opened his mouth and struggled trying to say a word, until he finally articulated a shaky: "Fine." Don Alejandro shook his head, looking at the sergeant with a hopeless, sad face.

"I see. Improving slowly, then." The sergeant looked disappointed, but he tried to be upbeat about it. "Come in, come in. The alcalde has the documents ready for you."

They stepped in, coming through the door with some difficulty. The alcalde was at his desk giving orders to Armando, who had taken on the role of assistant. Roberto stood up to greet them, polite, while Armando retreated to a corner, acting invisible as if he wasn't there.

"Good afternoon, Don Alejandro. Nice to meet you, Don Diego." Roberto offered his right hand to Diego, who looked at it as if he didn't know what to do with it, hesitant. His floppy right arm dangled at his side, useless.

"Good afternoon," Diego managed to say in the end, looking back at the alcalde, ignoring his hand. The alcalde withdrew his right hand slowly, looking at Don Alejandro apologetically. "Take a sit, please, while I get the document."

Diego sat down, dropping heavily on the sturdy chair by the alcalde's desk. He started drooling with his head tilted, for maximum compassion effect. He was enjoying the acting so much, he could not stop himself.

Roberto came back to the desk with the piece of paper. There was no real reason to sign the document again, other than to have the chance to look at Diego closely, searching for any signs of recognition on his face. When he gave him the paper and the inked quill to sign, Roberto was delighted to see an uncoordinated, slow Diego, who could hardly hold the quill steady in his left hand.

"Please, Don Diego, sign in here," he said, pointing at the spot on the paper. Diego advanced the quill and traced an irregular X in there. Then, he handled the quill back to the alcalde with a proud, silly smile on his face. Roberto and Diego looked at each other for a few seconds. Diego didn't like the alcalde's dark eyes. He didn't know why, but they made him uncomfortable.

"Thank you, Don Diego. That's all I need. You can go now," said the alcalde, satisfied. It looked like Diego was really disabled, and he could not remember him at all.

At that moment in time, none of them could realize how good at acting the other man was.

ZZZ

After they left, Armando asked Roberto about the haciendas.

"Should we raid them again, to burn them to the ground? Don Francisco is rebuilding his hacienda already, and the De la Vega hacienda didn't suffer much damage at all. Sure they won't leave them. And, wasn't that the initial plan? To clear the whole area?"

"Yes, it was. But I have a new plan now. It will be much more fun this way. Don't worry about them; keep to the initial plan to secure the other haciendas while the men look for the three signs." Roberto produced a map of the territory and pointed at a couple of marks on it. "Concentrate in these two for now. But don't use fire. Poison their wells, for example, or think on something else. Don't make it similar to the other attacks. Is that clear?"

"Sí, señor. Crystal clear. No fire."

ZZZZZ


	27. Chapter 27 - the New Zorro

**Chapter 48 – The New Zorro**

Victoria read the note again, disappointed. It was early in the morning, she was ready to go, and now it would not be possible. The note was from Alejandro's nanny; she was sick and could not take care of her son that day.

Victoria thought hard about her options. The obvious one would be the De la Vegas, although she didn't want to leave her son near Cristina, nor ask her for any favours. Nonetheless, Don Alejandro had always been quite fond of the little boy, so maybe it wasn't such a bad idea they could spend the day together, bonding. The little one needed a male role model in his life, and Diego was sadly unavailable for that important job. He didn't remember what he had promised to Juan, and he had changed too much after the accident. Don Alejandro was a better choice.

It took her only five minutes to make up her mind. She grabbed her travel bag, got the kid in the cart with her, and headed for the hacienda De la Vega.

ZZZ

"Don Alejandro, I need to go to Santa Paula to buy some stuff for the tavern. I really like the quality of some of the products they sell at the market there. Would you be so kind to take care of Alejandro for me while I am away? Pilar and Alicia are managing the tavern, and my usual nanny is sick today. I'll be back late in the evening."

"Of course, Victoria, don't worry. I'd love to have mini-me around for a day. Actually, take your time; don't hurry up to return this evening. He can stay the night here at the hacienda, and you can stay in Santa Paula and come back the next day well rested. Would you like to do that, Alejandrito? Do you want to stay?" The three year old boy nodded, smiling happily. Don Alejandro held his arms up and the little boy jumped on them from the cart, laughing.

"Yes! Bye mummy!" He waved from the old man's arms, totally unconcerned to let his mum go.

"Look at him! Not a single tear! He is growing up so fast," said Victoria, feigning sadness. "Thank you, Don Alejandro." The old don ruffled the boy's hair.

"Why should he cry? He is going to have a really good time here, aren't you?"

"Yes!" said the little boy again, hopeful. The old man was like his granddad, the only one he knew. Juan's parents were dead, the same as Victoria's, and the little boy didn't know any other family but the De la Vegas, and to a lesser extent, the Blascos.

ZZZ

That afternoon, down at the cave, Cristina could not believe her eyes. In less than two weeks, Diego had regained all his skills with the sword. Only a few days ago he couldn't hold the sword properly, and now she could hardly stop his furious thrusts. He was using movements she had never seen him use before, and she could not identify them. When she parried his last attempt to hit her chest, beating his sword away just in time, she stepped back and lowered her sword, upset, extending her left arm towards Diego.

"All right! Stop. Stop!" He stopped advancing, perplexed.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"That riposte you just used. What was that? Where did that come from?"

"What? I don't know. I told you: I don't think anymore. It is as if the sword could move itself. Why? What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing! You did nothing wrong. That riposte was perfect. Almost _too _perfect."

"Nice! Thank you. Should we carry on then? I bet I can hit you the next time."

She should have known better, but she was so upset she took the bait of that childish, competitive, new Diego willingly.

"In your dreams! On guard!"

ZZZ

"As you are such a grown-up boy now, Alejandro, I am going to teach you how to fence. Come, I'll show you how to make a good play-sword." Don Alejandro took the little boy's hand and guided him to the tool room, behind the stables. He rummaged in the pile of discarded wood until he found a suitable, thin piece of wood.

"That will do. Now, we need to make it smooth… There, we'll use this planner. Be careful! That blade is very sharp!"

Don Alejandro worked with his tools to shape, file, and buffer the piece of wood to a smooth finish to avoid any loose splints that could damage Alejandro's little, soft hands. He demonstrated all the steps to the little boy, but he didn't really let him use the sharpest tools. When he had finished, he selected another piece of wood and repeated the process.

"Now, we need to attach a guard to the handle to protect our hands… what about that?" He selected another two smaller pieces. He held one across the larger one and nailed them together with the hammer. "Did you see how I did it? You could hammer yours in place. Would you like to do that?" The little boy got the hammer enthusiastically, while Don Alejandro held the nail and the pieces of wood in place for him. "Be careful with my fingers! That's it, slowly…" Alejandro moved the hammer so gently it just touched the nail, not making any significant difference in its position. "A bit harder. Don't be afraid, come on. Show me!"

The little boy tried again, determined, showing his tongue at the corner of his mouth in concentration. Don Alejandro was caught by surprise; he never would have thought a three year old boy could deliver such a mighty blow. His cry could be heard all over the hacienda when the hammer smashed his index finger.

ZZZ

Don Manuel watched in desperation the pile of carcasses. Twenty of his best cows had died during the last three days, and most of the others had diarrhea and would probably follow soon. Some of his workers were also sick, and the doctor didn't know the cause of this mysterious illness. And, on top of his misery, a wild fire had spread on his dry land, affecting some of the crops for the season. His land wasn't the most fertile in the territory, unlike that pleasant, easy, profitable land of the De la Vegas. Instead, his land had unyielding, dry and rocky soil, and he had struggled to get good agricultural products out of it.

He was tired and sick of the hard work to maintain his status as a wealthy landowner in Los Angeles. All of a sudden, that offer from Don Miguel to buy his land would be worth considering. He could sell his hacienda and apply for a _ranchería_ in one of the less populated villages further north, where the land was more fertile, and cheaper.

Unwilling to watch the gruesome scene, when the workers set the carcasses on fire, he got on his horse and rode off to pay a visit to Don Miguel.

ZZZ

They used every available space at the cave in their frantic fight. They had touched each other's limbs several times with their thrusts, but, as they weren't _"mortal wounds,"_ they carried on, keen to score a hit at the vital organs to declare themselves winners.

Diego was out of control, using very rough, aggressive movements. Cristina was glad they were using blunt swords, and not the sharp ones, or she would be seriously in danger. Even with the blunt ones and the protective clothing she felt she was at risk.

At one point, Diego missed the target and hit a glass tube on the table, spilling its liquid content on the floor. They carried on, ignoring the mishap, until Cristina slipped on the sticky fluid, losing her footing while lunging forward at great speed. She jerked her right arm up and accidentally hit Diego's mask hard with her sword. The mask smashed his face, and he cried out in pain.

"Sorry! Are you all right?" asked Cristina, concerned. She took her mask off, the same as Diego, who looked quite cross, with a trickle of fresh blood running down his nose.

"No, I am not. But don't think for a moment you won. You know as well as I do your hit was accidental," he said, holding his head back to stop the bleeding. Cristina's concern passed very quickly, annoyed as she was by his words.

"What's wrong with you!? I am worried about you and all you can think about is winning! Of course it was accidental! Or do you think I would hit your face on purpose, just to hurt you?"

"Maybe. I don't actually know what you would do or not. I think you can't stand the fact that I am better than you." He didn't know why Cristina irritated him so much, but she really did, and he felt compelled to humiliate her at any chance he had.

"Of course you are a better fencer than me, Diego. You are stronger, taller, and you trained with Sir Edmund Kendal without the need to hide, without the need for secrecy. That came later for you. And, while I hardly ever touch a sword nowadays after giving birth to your child, you keep playing with yours as Zorro. It is not fair. We will never fight in equal conditions."

"Of course we won't. Right now, I don't even know what I am doing. Sure that should be in your advantage."

"All right. Whatever. Let's finish for today."

"No, we are not finished. Come on," he said, putting the mask back on. "Show me."

"Really, Diego?" she puffed. "I don't want to hurt you, and I certainly don't want to be hurt. You are out of control."

"No, I am not. Come on. On guard!"

"No."

"Come on. Just one more time."

"No."

"Please?" Cristina imagined former Diego's puppy eyes under the mask, and she had to smile.

"You are unbelievable. Now I know why Sofía can be so insistent. Like father, like daughter." She put the mask back on slowly, reluctantly. "One more time, and then we are done."

"Sure. On guard!"

They engaged in a succession of fast feints, thrusts, parries and ripostes, trying to finish the fight quickly, but none of them could hit the opponent easily. Exhausted, Cristina was about to give up and call it a tie, when Diego suddenly came closer and engaged his sword with hers, jerking his sword in a weird semi-circular movement, so precise and powerful she could not hold the grip on her sword any longer. Her practice sword flew away revolving in the air, and landed with a loud clank a few meters away from her.

"Now I won," he said, triumphant, with his sword resting lightly on her chest, over her heart. She was panting fast with the strenuous effort of that last bout, and his sword's tip moved up and down with her breath. Again, she didn't know what technique he had used in that last, precise movement that had managed to disarm her. It was the confirmation to her suspicions: the former Diego, the _nice_ Diego, the one she loved, had always been a gentleman, letting her win some battles, letting her get away with an unhurt ego most of the times. And he took care of her, and never hurt her. The new Diego was an unbearable jerk. He looked the same, but he wasn't him. And she realized she didn't like the new one at all. She started crying, extremely sad, only to get an infuriating: "Don't cry, woman. It is only a game!"

"Shut up, and leave me alone!" she pushed the sword away and wiped off her tears. Ignoring Diego, she took all the protective gear off in a rush, and ran upstairs. Back in her room, she changed onto her normal clothes, making a great effort not to cry again. When she came out, she heard a startling cry coming from the patio, and she rushed out to check what was happening.

ZZZ

"Can I play?" asked Sofía, hopeful.

"No. Girls don't play with swords. Only men," replied the boy, attacking the old man with his sword, swinging it all over randomly. Don Alejandro had difficulty to keep the little boy's unpredictable sword away, because he feared he could hurt him accidentally.

"Why? I can use it. Same as you," said Sofía, cross.

Little Alejandro kept trying to hit the old man by any means, until he got it: he managed to hit the already sore finger again.

"Ouch! Arrgh! That's it, you got me. You won," said Don Alejandro, retreating, shaking his right hand. That last blow had hit the already swollen area at the side. He licked the blood that came out of the burst hematoma, trying to sooth the pain in his finger. "I think we can practice more another day. Excuse me for a moment." He left the sword on the ground and turned around to get to the house to clean the wound, cursing himself for being so careless. His finger really hurt.

Sofía picked up the sword and challenged the boy.

"Fight with me."

"All right." Alejandro tried to adopt the "on guard" position Don Alejandro had just taught him. Sofía, instead, started swinging the sword up and down wildly. She smashed the boy's sword off his hand, and then she whacked his head hard.

"I won!" she cried enthusiastically, while the boy screamed in pain, howling.

Alarmed by the distressed cry, Don Alejandro came back quickly to the patio, at the same time as Cristina. She took charge of the situation immediately, taking the wooden sword off her daughter's hands. She furiously threw it away to the other end of the patio, upset as she already was by swords of any kind.

"Honestly! You and your little games! They are too young for sword play! You should know better!" barked Cristina at Don Alejandro while she had a quick look at the little boy's head. He had a small gash at the top, which was bleeding profusely.

"She hit me!" he cried, sobbing inconsolably. "I want my mummy!"

"All right, shhhh, calm down. You'll be all right." She took the distressed little boy in her arms and got him inside. Don Alejandro and Sofía followed them, looking contrite. While she applied pressure to the wound with a clean cloth to stop the bleeding, Cristina looked at her daughter, who still looked sad, although not too much, with her remorse dissipating quickly. _"My goodness! She is so much like me, already fighting with the boys. And she's not three yet!"_ She had to make an effort not to laugh and maintain her severe expression. _At least one of us won today. I would have enjoyed whacking Diego so much myself, just like that!_

"Sofía, I am so disappointed with you. Why would you hurt your friend like this? You should be more careful." Sofía nodded, looking at the floor.

"_Sí, mamá_. I am sorry." Then, Cristina addressed Don Alejandro with a harsh tone.

"You will tell Victoria tomorrow. I don't want to be involved in this."

"Yes. I will," said Don Alejandro, sheepishly, still licking his finger. "It is my fault, I know. I shouldn't have left them alone with the swords." He sighed deeply. He really didn't want to face Victoria's wrath. _Damn!_

ZZZ

The next day, Don Alejandro had to endure the reprimand from Victoria. He apologized for his carelessness several times, and as a goodwill gesture, he offered to escort them back to the pueblo.

"Do you want to ride with me on Dulcinea?"

"Yes!" answered the boy, enthusiastic.

"No, he doesn't. I don't think that's a good idea, Don Alejandro. I am very grateful you took care of him yesterday, but one head injury is enough."

"All right. Don't worry. Another time, then, when you are a bit older," offered the old don. The boy sulked, complaining.

"It is not fair!"

"Well, sweetie, get used to it. Life is never fair," Victoria mumbled.

When they arrived at the tavern, doctor Hernández approached the old don and invited him to his house.

"Don Alejandro, I needed to talk to you here, in private."

"What is it? Is there something wrong, doctor?"

"Yes. Don Pedro Ramos suffered an episode of diarrhea for the last three days, the same as his family and some of the workers. I went to visit him this morning again, but he had died at dawn. While I was there, his little daughter died too."

"Angelita? Oh, my God." Don Alejandro was shocked by the news, speechless.

"I couldn't do anything to help them. They were greatly dehydrated, and the more water they drank, the sicker they became. I think their well was poisoned. I told them to stop drinking that water, and only use the one from the fountain at the plaza."

"What do you mean? Poisoned by the same men who attacked the haciendas?"

"It could be. I don't know."

"Don Pedro's property is close to Don Manuel's. Do you think he may be involved too?"

"That's the other thing I wanted to tell you. Some of Don Manuel's workers are affected by a similar condition. But, instead of getting worse, they are improving now. However, the cows are dying in great number. That could happen if the brook was poisoned instead of the well, as they have free access to it."

"We should tell the alcalde. He should investigate the whole thing. So far, Mendoza has been unable to find any information about that Roberto Malpartida, or who set the haciendas on fire. I think all these events are related."

"I already told him I am suspecting poisoning. He said he is going to investigate the source."

"I hope he gets to some conclusions fast," said the old don, uncertain that would be the case.

ZZZ

Back at the hacienda, Don Alejandro talked to Cristina and Don Francisco, and told them the bad news. The conversation drifted to the former Zorro, and how quickly he would have been able to unravel the mystery.

"Do you honestly think Diego is ready to be Zorro, out there?" asked Don Alejandro.

"I don't know. I think he's got his fighting skills back, but I am worried about his mental attitude," answered Cristina.

"What do you mean?" asked Don Francisco.

"He behaves like a child most of the times. He doesn't control himself, or his desires. Whatever he wants, he has to get it, immediately. I think he may be overconfident as Zorro, and unpredictable."

"Yes, I know what you mean. Exactly what I thought," Don Alejandro agreed. "What should we do then? We still don't know who killed De Soto and if he is still around, and I don't like the situation with Don Miguel. He is involved in all this somehow. He has a plan, and I am too old and tired to discover what it is without Diego's help. We need Zorro desperately."

"What do you think he would do?" Don Francisco asked. "He is only a man; legendary, but still a man. And right now, a faulty one."

"I don't know what he would do, but I have faith. Whatever needs to be done, Zorro can do it. I am sure of that," said Don Alejandro.

"All right. Let's start with the basics. He can try the outfit this afternoon," said Cristina unconvinced. After all that time arguing with Diego to give Zorro up, now that he had the chance to forget about him completely, they were about to bring him back. She knew it was for the best, but she didn't like it. At all.

ZZZ

Diego adjusted the black mask to a tight fit, and then put Zorro's hat on. He looked at the mirror, liking his reflection. He put the leather gloves on and then placed his hand at his sword's hilt in a proud, defiant way.

"Aren't you happy? You have Zorro back!" He turned to smile proudly at the small crowd at the cave. They smiled back at him, nodding and looking at each other, unsure what to say. "What do you think? Should I try to go to the pueblo as Zorro? Just to show up, with no real purpose. Don't you think people will miss him otherwise, if he is never around? Will they think it is odd Zorro has disappeared now while Diego is disabled?"

"Very good thinking, Diego," said Cristina, happy to see Diego's fog could finally be lifting. "We could try that, but, don't worry about your identity. You were so good in your pretense to be a clumsy, non-skilled, peaceful man before, that it is very unlikely anybody would put two and two together. Besides, you have been injured many times and Zorro has disappeared each and every time with no consequences."

"What are you planning to do at the pueblo, Son? We don't know how the Mexican army soldiers are going to react now. No official pardon has been issued for you, so I guess that, in their books, you are still a criminal," Don Alejandro said, nervous.

"I don't know. I don't have a plan. Well, not a real one. I thought it would be a good idea just to pass through the plaza, so people would think I am still here, available to help them."

"What about if you climb up the tavern's roof and come into the first floor through the ceiling, and then you come down and exit through the main door? Lots of people could see you that way. Then whistle for Toronado and come back here. No need to engage anybody, and they will still think that you are up to something. That will give you a feeling of Zorro, without the danger," said Don Francisco.

"All right, I can do that."

"One more thing. To make Zorro's appearance more credible, you could swing from the chandelier at the tavern. You usually do that: you jump from the upper floor over the banister, cling to the outer chandelier's rail and let go of it to land on the floor graciously, like a circus performer. You like showing off so much!" Cristina teased, laughing.

"I think swinging from the chandelier is completely unnecessary, but, if you say so… I can give it a try."

"Come, I'll show you how to open the cave door while Felipe saddles Toronado," said Cristina. "Don Alejandro, can you please get someone to get our horses ready as well so we can follow Diego for support?"

"Sure. Good idea," said the old don, coming upstairs to get everything ready. On the way up, he heard Diego querying what to do with the whip, and where to place it in his belt. He shook his head and pressed the lever to open the secret door. That morning, he was confident on Diego's abilities, but he was now having second thoughts.

ZZZ

Diego approached the black horse, which happily came closer when he recognized his master, neighing. He blew on Diego's arm, pushing him gently with his nose.

"What's his name, again? _Thunder_? _Twister?_" asked Diego, tapping the horse's neck.

"_Toronado_!" shouted Cristina, Don Francisco and Don Alejandro at the same time. Even Felipe shouted the name without a sound. Exasperated, the old don slid his right hand down over his face, closing his eyes, and held it there for a moment while he shook his head in slow motion. _This cannot possibly go well. It's going to be a disaster._

"Can we reconsider the whole plan? You are going to get yourself killed, son," said Don Alejandro, anxious. He realized it was the first time he was going to be worried about Zorro. Before knowing his true identity, he always thought the masked man was some sort of an indestructible figure who could not get hurt, but now, his mind could not merge together the images of his clumsy son and the skilled hero. Especially now, when Zorro could not even remember his own horse.

"No, don't worry, Father. Even if my brain doesn't remember what to do, my body knows. Look," he said, jumping neatly up the saddle, with a gracious and agile movement. "Ta-dah!" he sang, proudly, with his arms wide open seeking approval. Cristina, Felipe, Don Francisco and Don Alejandro looked at each other, and then back at Diego. They didn't know what to say, and they missed the chance to speak up when Diego spurred the black horse and galloped away.

"Lord, help us!" cried Don Alejandro, rushing the others to their horses to follow _the_ _new Zorro_.

ZZZ

As planned, Zorro arrived at the pueblo. Unseen, he approached the tavern. He reckoned the roof was too high up, so he stood up in Toronado's saddle to reach one of the windows, and climbed up to it easily, entering the room on the first floor. Unfortunately, a female guest was at that room. She was a lady from Mexico who didn't know anything about Zorro. Frightened by the masked man, she screamed loudly, hysterically.

"Quiet! I am not going to hurt you. You are all right," Zorro said. The woman ignored his words, and kept screaming, backing off against the wall. Zorro advanced and covered her yelling mouth with his gloved hand. With the intense fear, she fainted in his arms. He caught her before she hit the floor, and carried her to the bed.

Coming out of the room in a hurry, he saw the chandelier. If what Cristina had told him was true, he could hang from it and jump to the ground floor much faster that using the stairs, which were blocked by some men who were coming up to help the woman in distress. He quickly passed his long legs over the banister and jumped in the air, taking hold of the round wooden rail of the chandelier, as apparently he had done so many times before to make a great entrance in the tavern, even if he could not remember it. But this time, the fasteners that anchored the chandelier to the ceiling had become loose after the last mild earthquake a few months ago, and they could not support the extra weight. Everybody gasped in shock when the whole thing gave way under his weight, and Zorro crashed on the ground floor, flat on his back with the chandelier on top, crushing is chest. Mortified, hurt both in his body and in his pride, he pushed the heavy structure away from him and stood up as fast as he could, but his cape swirled with the hasty movement and settled over his hat. Cristina covered her eyes, shaking her head, embarrassed by such a lame move. That didn't look like Zorro _the legend;_ more like Zorro _the clown_. Annoyed, Zorro shook the cape off, creating a cloud of dust, plaster and cobwebs all around him, and headed to the entrance door.

Victoria, startled by the loud noise, came out of the kitchen. "Zorro!" she exclaimed, surprised. She hadn't seen him for a long time.

"I am sorry for my clumsiness. I will have that fixed," he apologized, touching his dusty brim. Self-conscious, he ran outside, unwilling to say anything else or to stay one more second in the tavern, while everybody was looking at him. The moment of shock was over, and laughter was spreading fast.

Victoria stood there, perplexed, her head tilted to one side, evaluating the damage, and then turned to the front door, where Zorro had just disappeared. _What the…?_

ZZZZZ


	28. Chapter 28 - First Love

**Chapter 49 – First Love**

Back at the hacienda, Don Alejandro confronted his son at the library. Diego was walking quite stiff, and he looked cross and upset.

"What happened out there, Son? Are you all right?"

"Yes. My back hurts, but I am fine. How did I look?"

"I nearly laughed when you fell off with the chandelier. It didn't look like Zorro, more like an inept imitator," said Cristina, grinning.

"Well, it is your darn fault!" snapped Diego. "I could have easily used the stairs, but you said people would expect me to swing from the chandelier and jump showing off, as I did. How could I know the fixings had become loose since the last time? Of course I don't remember the last time I did that stunt. Or the first. Or any. It's a stupid thing to do; completely useless and unnecessary." He was directing all his anger and frustration for the mishap at Cristina, and it was too obvious.

Don Alejandro stepped in to avoid a fight. He was painfully aware of the constant friction between the couple now, and he felt sorry for his daughter in law. However, this time, as many times before, she chose to ignore Diego's tantrum, although she felt deeply hurt.

"Never mind, Son. You are fine, and we got what we wanted, thank you. It was a good trial for the _New Zorro_. That mishap with the chandelier could have happened to the old one just as well." Diego nodded, calming down a notch. "And, I don't think you saw him, but the new alcalde was at the tavern, at the back. He didn't call the lancers on you, which is a good sign, and he enquired about you after you left. He looked quite interested in the general opinion about the Zorro issue; he wanted to know if you are a real criminal or not. I think he may grant you a pardon, Diego!" said Don Alejandro, excited.

"That would be great if it happens, but I don't think Zorro should accept the pardon and show his identity. At least not until we find out De Soto's killer. I think it will be best if Diego continues to appear disabled in public," said Cristina.

"Well, I don't think so. I am fed up of that. You have no idea how difficult it is for me not to be able to move my right arm at all. Before, it may have been a good idea while I recovered, but now, if that killer knows I am Zorro, he may not have the courage to attack me."

"Whoever he is, he doesn't need much courage to shoot you from the distance. Don't be so cocky, Diego." Cristina's words served to increase his animosity greatly. Her father intervened in the same way his friend had done before, to thwart a confrontation.

"I think she is right, Diego. It would be better not to rush into revealing your identity. Besides, we are thinking ahead. We don't know for sure if the alcalde is going to grant you a pardon or not. Until that happens, I think you should carry on with the deception about your disability."

"We'll see." Diego crossed his arms, defiant. He was fuming.

ZZZ

That night Diego lay in bed on his back, with his hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling lost in thought. _"Why does this woman irritate me so much? I'm supposed to love her, as she is my wife, but she gets on my nerves. She is almost too perfect to be true: so beautiful, and capable of anything. And she enjoys humiliating me, I think. And I can't remember her at all. But maybe I am a lucky bastard to have her and I don't even know it."_

Cristina, unaware of his thoughts, was keen to make up with her husband. She could not stand sharing the bed with someone under so much tension and animosity. She crawled up under the sheets closer to him, resting her head on his muscular torso as she used to do before, when Diego also loved her. He tensed immediately, and she noticed it. She greatly missed the intimacy with him, nonetheless, at least with the originalDiego, so she ignored his apparent discomfort and stayed there, quiet, listening to his powerful heartbeats. He didn't move at all, stiff, trying to ignore the fact that she was there.

"Diego, I miss you," she whispered. Quietly, in total silence without a sobbing sound, strayed tears spilled out of her beautiful green eyes, sliding over Diego's chest.

"Are you crying?" he asked when he felt the wet drops on his warm skin.

"Yes," she said with a tiny voice, broken by the rejection. "I miss you so much. The _former_ you."

Although he didn't feel he loved her at all, he felt sorry for Cristina and her predicament, and wanted to comfort her somehow. Without thinking, with an automatic move, he got one hand out from under his head and caressed her hair, slowly, massaging her scalp as well. The sensation felt familiar, and he liked it. It soothed him, and it seemed to sooth her as well, as she stopped trembling. He smelled the sweet aroma emanating from her shiny dark hair as he gently stroked it, and he recognized it too. Then he had a strange sensation, like a string pulling from his navel, slowly crawling up to reach his throat. On purpose this time, he got his other hand also free and caressed her back all the way down to her bottom, deliberately sliding his hand under her underwear. In return, she caressed his chest, playing with the isolated bunch of hairs he had in the middle. He started to feel aroused because, although he didn't love her, as a man he was naturally attracted by her beauty. Then he had a disturbing thought: in his foggy mind he still knew how to make love to a woman and he wouldn't need instructions, in the same way he remembered how to ride a horse, but he didn't remember doing it, ever, with any woman. Should he try it? Would that be appropriate? After all, she was his wife and she said she _missed_ him. Surely that meant… _sex_?

Cristina heard Diego's heart beating faster, and she smiled knowingly. Then, in contrast with her husband, she had a pleasant thought: maybe it wasn't so bad that he could not remember anything. She lifted her head, and made her way up to his lips. She kissed him, lightly at first, unsure on how much to push her luck. Surprisingly, instead of rejecting her, this time he responded with a deep, passionate kiss while he locked her in his arms. After a while, he dragged Cristina up to place her on top of him. She giggled when she felt his growing erection. He pushed her shoulders, lifting her apart above his head to look into her beautiful green eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing," she smiled with some strayed locks of her sleek hair dangling. They touched his face, tickling his nose.

"Gosh, you are so beautiful! Is that why I fell in love with you?" he asked, excited. He grabbed her upper arms with intention, but then he froze, unsure what to do next. Then he remembered how differently he had handled the sword when he had his eyes covered and he didn't think about it, and decided to give it a try. If he could ride a horse, sure he could do this. With his mind blank, he closed his eyes and left his body to act freely. When he opened his eyes a few minutes later, they were both naked and he had pinned her down on her back against the mattress, as he used to do before, holding her wrists. He checked, and she looked more than ready.

"Diego, I don't want to get pregnant right now. It would be… inconvenient," she whispered when he was about to start.

"You don't want to do it then?" he asked, holding on still, already in light contact with her moist.

"No, I mean, can you… withdraw?"

"Don't know, I guess so. I don't remember exactly what I did before, you know?" he joked.

"Love me, then," she ordered, and he complied, all too willingly.

XXXXX

When she climaxed, curling her toes on the soft silk sheets after enjoying full sex for the first time in what it felt like a long, long time, she blessed his amnesia. He didn't remember the doctor's advice and he could not remember Victoria at all, either. _Joyful bliss!_ And of course, he efficiently followed her orders and pulled back at the last moment to avoid an unwanted pregnancy.

After they had finished, they both lay on their side looking at each other, quite close, panting lightly while recovering.

"Diego, you are back," she said with a satisfied smile, caressing his face.

"Am I?" He took her hand to kiss it. "You know, whatever happened before, as I don't remember it, for me you will always be my _first love_." He winked at her, with a spark of love appearing in his eyes for the first time since he had lost his memory.

_Maybe amnesia is a God's send, not a curse_, thought Cristina, ecstatic to have a portion of the former Diego back.

"_Mi querida_, _mi amor,_" he continued, "I think I can call you that, even if you sometimes drive me so crazy, I have to make an effort not to slap you."

She sighed. _Maybe not, then…_

ZZZZZ


	29. Chapter 29 - Chemistry All Around

**Chapter 50 – Chemistry all around**

"Don Manuel is here to see you, señor," announced María, the house keeper.

"Don Manuel? That's odd. What does he want?" asked the old don, surprised.

"I don't know, Don Alejandro; he didn't say. Should I tell Don Diego we have a visitor, so he knows he has to _play sick_?"

All the house servants knew about Diego's predicament and the risk he would face if the killer suspected he could remember anything. All of them had been serving at the hacienda for many years, and were extremely loyal to the De la Vegas. Don Alejandro let them know the situation from the beginning, so Diego could at least relax and be himself at home rather than having to pretend all the time. He was sure they would not tell anybody about Diego's real condition. Of course, they didn't know or suspect he was Zorro, at all.

"Yes, please, María. We don't want him to suddenly walk in and spoil the deception, do we? I'll get to Don Manuel myself, thank you." He walked to the entrance, where Don Manuel was waiting, standing, as he had refused to take a seat.

"Buenos días, Don Manuel. Do you want to see me? What can I do for you?"

"Buenos días, Don Alejandro. I came to say goodbye. I am leaving Los Angeles."

"Where are you going? Are you selling your hacienda?"

"Yes, I am selling my property and I am buying another one further north. As you know, my land is not the most productive around here, and all of a sudden, most of my cattle are sick and dying."

"The doctor told me he suspects the water has been poisoned. At your property and at Don Pedro's. He thinks he and his daughter died because of that poison, but he doesn't know what it can be. Actually, I was going to pay you a visit to ask your permission to collect some water samples."

"Who is going to test them? Diego? Has he recovered his memory?"

"No. He hasn't. But we have his chemistry books. I figured that, with the doctor's help, we could try to read them and use my son's laboratory equipment to find out what is in the water."

"Well, good luck with that. If you want to get the water, you should hurry up. I am leaving the property this afternoon. Don Miguel will be the rightful owner after I go."

"You sold your property to Don Miguel?" asked Don Alejandro, dumbfounded. Don Manuel nodded, uncomfortable. "Why? I am sure he is the one who has poisoned your water!"

"Maybe. But he paid a good price for a piece of dry land with toxic water. I have been thinking about moving for a long time, to be honest, so this is the right thing to do. I don't know what's going on, and I don't want to be involved. It is better to give up before someone burns my house, like it happened to your friend's; or even worse, kills me like that poor bastard Don Pedro. Maybe I should have come back to Spain like Don Esteban did, because I never liked the idea of becoming Mexican. I feel like a traitor. I was very surprised that you stayed in California, Don Alejandro; really surprised, indeed."

"Francisco won't come back to Spain unless he's in chains and dragged all the way there, and my family is now here. Besides, we couldn't move with Diego being so sick, so there is no point to speculate what could or should have happened."

"Yes, that's right. Is Diego improving at all?"

"No, not really. He is stable in his condition, but I don't think he will ever recover his memory."

"Sorry. It is such a shame. He was such a bright, intelligent man. A great lose for everybody at the pueblo. I wonder if we will ever see another issue of _"The Guardian."_ Well, Don Alejandro, it was nice to have enjoyed your friendship all these years. I'll let you know my new address if case you want to visit. As I said, come to my property to get the water samples as soon as possible. Don Miguel may accuse you of trespassing otherwise. Goodbye." He shook hands with Don Alejandro.

"Yes, I'll do that right now. Adiós, Don Manuel. Take care. I hope everything works all right for you."

When Don Manuel left, Don Alejandro went to collect a few clean bottles for the samples while he thought about the situation, and how mistaken he had been about Don Manuel. After all, he wasn't involved at all in the mystery; he was just another victim.

"Felipe, can you please come with me to collect water samples at Don Manuel's and Don Pedro's properties? We need to test them for poisoning."

Felipe signed. The old don wasn't very sure, but it looked like Felipe was asking who was going to test them.

"We are. We will read Diego's books and use his equipment."

Felipe looked at the old man as if he was mad. Don Alejandro didn't know much about Diego's experiments, but Felipe had seen him working on them and it didn't look that simple, not at all. Nonetheless, he went along to collect the samples. Hopefully, maybe Diego could remember something, as he did with horse riding and fencing.

ZZZ

From behind the counter, Victoria looked at the alcalde with dreamy eyes. He was sitting at a table at the back, eating lunch alone, and he looked really handsome in that blue jacket. She didn't want to admit it, but she felt attracted to him like a moth to the light. And he seemed to be attracted to her, as he was spending more and more time at the tavern every day, with a flirtatious attitude that could easily cross the line to formal courting. He was funny and witty, and made her laugh easily, and she loved his attention and compliments.

Victoria was still an emotional mess, unable to sort out her feelings as she had promised to Don Alejandro she was going to do. She was still in love with Diego, but the same as Cristina, with _the former_ Diego, not the current one. The new Diego didn't remember her, and hardly ever talked to her. He was rude, obnoxious and childish, and she didn't like him. She was sorry for him, having to pretend he was sicker than he actually was, and she was worried about the risk he was facing. However, Don Alejandro was right: Diego was taken, and she should not dream of a future with him, even less in his condition. So, the other option for her, Zorro… he had never been a great option, she had to face it; a quite unrealistic one. And the other day, when he had broken the chandelier, he was cold when he addressed her, and she didn't see any love in his eyes. Probably he was still angry she had married Juan. She sighed, bored with that thought.

It looked like the alcalde was the best option at the moment. She would keep an open mind, and an open heart, and follow that road to see where it led her.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro placed all the bottles at the table in the cave. They all had labels to identify them. Some contained water from Don Pedro's well, and others from the brook at his property; other bottles contained samples from the well and the brook at Don Manuel's; and the last one was from the well at the De la Vega hacienda, to be used as a control for comparison, assuming that water was not poisoned as nobody in the house was sick.

"Diego, we need to test these water samples for toxic substances. Do you remember how to do that?" Diego looked at the water bottles, then at the laboratory equipment lying on the table, and lastly to the pile of chemistry books balancing as the leaning tower of Pisa at the further edge of the table.

"No, I don't, Father. Sorry, I have no idea." He didn't have a clue how to use the myriad of instruments and glass tubes of all sizes surrounding him, or the properties of the different chemicals kept in carefully labelled, little brown bottles, which had been alphabetically ordered on the shelves behind him by that meticulous, brilliant scientist his former self was.

"I guess we'll need to read all your chemistry books then," said Don Alejandro, taking the one at the top of the pile.

"Really?" said Diego, looking at the books with apprehension.

"Yes, of course. Come on, Diego, at least you remember how to read. Get on with it. This is going to be a long day. Doctor Hernández promised to visit later to give us a hand." The old man sat down in another chair and started flicking pages, the same as Felipe, looking for a chapter with information on how to test water for chemicals. Diego stood up and grabbed another book, letting out a long sigh when he sat back on his sturdy chair. This was going to be a long afternoon, indeed.

ZZZ

"Victoria. You are so pretty; you are torturing me with your beauty. You have to stop. Grow an ugly wart in your nose or something, please. I can't take this any longer," said the alcalde, lingering by the counter when all the other customers had left the tavern. She laughed at the odd request.

"Do you want me to transform into an ugly witch, then?" she asked, pretending to be upset and surprised.

"If you are going to ignore me forever, yes, please. It will be easier on my heart."

Chuckling, she came out from behind the counter to close the front door. "Alcalde, the tavern is now closed. It is late; you have to leave."

"What if I don't want to go?"

"Then you will have to pay for a room. Ask Pilar if you want to book one. She is attending the rooms tonight. Me, I am going home." She started to walk to the door, but he grabbed her arm when she passed by.

"I am not going anywhere unless I take a kiss with me."

"Alcalde, you are so…" she started to protest, but she couldn't finish because Roberto covered her mouth with his, embracing her to pull her closer. She tried to resist at first, wriggling and pushing his chest away, with a muffled cry, but soon she relaxed and responded to the passionate kiss, enjoying it. She was surprised on how much she was longing for sexual contact of any kind. And he was such a good kisser… even better than Zorro! When they parted, her heart was racing and she was out of breath, flustered.

"That will do for now. As I said, grow a witchy wart, or I will come back for more, my little peach. Much more." With that bittersweet, promising menace, he left the tavern leaving a confused Victoria behind. Feeling hot, she licked her lips slowly, and with the taste of his mouth still lingering in hers, she wondered if she would have been able to resists his advances if he had pushed his luck any further.

ZZZ

"Roberto, when are you going to get that tavern wrench? I heard some of the dons saying she is quite sweet on you," said Don Miguel that night at his hacienda.

"Ah, I don't think it will be long. I told her the other day I am a widow too, and that I lost my dear wife and new born baby at childbirth. Brother, she is about to jump in my bed! She nearly melted in my arms tonight when I kissed her," he laughed, slapping Don Miguel's shoulder. "Just give me a day or two. To be honest, I am refraining myself, because right now I have to behave like a gentleman, at least for the gallery. Otherwise, I would have tasted her tonight right behind the counter." He paused to lick his lips, dreamy. "But the one I really want to get is the tall one, Diego's wife. She is stunning. Such a same she is wasting her fire with that vegetable by her side. But she is playing hard to get, I think. So far, she has ignored me completely."

"Where did you get all that handsomeness from, I wonder? Because we don't look anything alike. Certainly, women don't drop at my feet begging for my attentions as they do with you." Miguel was sort, slightly overweight, and although not totally ugly, he could be considered plain and average.

"I don't want to tell tales about our mother, Miguel, but I don't think we shared the same father," Roberto sniggered.

"Oh, yeah, your story about the Duque de Osuna… Wishful thinking, that is. You'd be nothing but a bastard, then, if that was true. Although, you have been called _bastard son of a bitch _so many times before, you should be used to it by now," he laughed. Roberto laughed heartedly too. "At least I know who my father was. I look so much like him."

"Unlucky you. Now, I should go back to the pueblo. I have an announcement to make soon. They are going to love it!" said Roberto, laughing once more. He had come to his brother's hacienda on an "official visit" as alcalde, and he shouldn't stay too long to avoid any suspicions.

"What are you up to now? Don't overdo it, please. You don't need to become _Alcalde of the Century_ in only a few weeks."

"I am going to issue a pardon for that criminal that dresses in black, that Zorro. The villagers seem quite fond of him, and to be honest, criminal or not, I don't give a damn about him. Whatever keeps the people happy and distracted."

"You are such a tease," laughed Don Miguel.

"And what about our business? Have they found it yet?" asked Roberto, serious.

"No. The men have combed our land, but they didn't find anything. We suspect it may be at the De la Vega's, or the Blasco's. We have to get rid of them."

"Would that help if the men had access to roam their land too?"

"Of course. But, how?"

"All right. I may have an idea about that, but they are going to hate me!" he laughed again.

ZZZZZ


	30. Chapter 30 - Embarrassing

**Chapter 51 – Embarrassing**

It was past dinner time when Don Alejandro accidentally broke the fifth testing tube that evening, losing his patience all together.

"That's it, I give up!" he shouted, throwing the flimsy remains of glass in the bin, cutting his index finger superficially while doing so. "Damn! This is completely pointless. We have nearly run out of water to test, and we still don't have a clue what could be in there! Son, it is a shame you don't remember much about chemistry. Teaching you to ride a horse from scratch would have been much, much easier!" Felipe chuckled with an "_I told you so"_ smile on his face.

"Nobody said it was going to be easy" said Cristina, who had joined the group down the cave in the late afternoon, the same as her father, who after only half an hour had decided science was not for him and had left the cave shamelessly. And she could not blame him for that, as it was quite difficult. Despite her education at university, as a graduate in Arts she didn't know much about chemistry either, and she was struggling to understand Diego's books. Her lack of knowledge had given her another opportunity to recriminate his father for the fact he had not allowed her to study science as a young girl.

At least Diego seemed to be enjoying it. Father and son enthusiasm (or lack of it) had balanced out as the evening had progressed. Don Alejandro had started the task enthusiastically, confident to get results quickly, while Diego was quite reluctant to even read a few pages of his own books. After a few hours of fruitless tampering with Diego's laboratory equipment, and a few broken glass pieces, Don Alejandro had enough already, while Diego was patiently waiting for something to boil in a large glass container with a long, narrow neck. The flask rested on a tall and fragile looking wire rack, balancing over a small burner, and Diego didn't lose sight of it for a second.

"I think Diego may be onto something here," Cristina said, hopeful.

"Are you, Diego?" asked his father while licking off the small amount of blood oozing from the tiny wound in his finger.

"Ah?" Diego lifted his head at the mention of his name, but quickly focused his attention back on the experiment and the burning liquid in the flask.

"Are you onto something, Son? What are you testing now?"

"What?" asked Diego lifting his head briefly again, but he ignored his father when liquid started to pour at the other end of the thin glass tube that was connected to the flask, and he hurried to collect it carefully into another test tube. Don Alejandro rolled his eyes. "_Yeah, there is still hope. That's a good glimpse of the old Diego_."

"Leave him alone. Don't distract him, all right?" Cristina ordered. She was glad to see Diego working hard on the task, and not cavilling and complaining as a spoiled brat, which was his usual behaviour nowadays.

That afternoon, Diego could not remember anything about chemistry, and he wasn't keen to learn at all. Nonetheless, he started to read the books, and slowly realized he was enjoying the subject, finding some of the information in them quite fascinating. Suddenly, he could intuitively know how to use some of the equipment available, handling it correctly while the others were struggling. After some failures, he had read about a test developed in the late 1700's by a German physician, Samuel Hahnemann, and he was testing the water for traces of that element.

Diego left the tube resting on another rack while he rummaged in the shelf looking for a bottle. He found it: HCl "_Hydrochloric acid._"

Don Alejandro, Cristina and Felipe watched Diego expectantly while he carefully transferred a small amount of the chemical to the test tube. He mixed them thoroughly, shaking the sampling tube, and then waited. Soon, a yellow precipitate appeared at the bottom, and he smiled broadly.

"Arsenic!" he said, triumphant.

"_Arsenic_? In the water? Really? That would make sense," said Cristina.

"Yes, according to this doctor, Samuel Hahnemann, a yellow precipitate of _arsenic trisulfide _will form if arsenic is present in the water. There it is," said Diego lifting the small tube with the yellow crystals.

"How did you know that?" Don Alejandro asked, mesmerized.

"I didn't. I just read it. _Everything _is in the books, you know?" They all laughed at his words, a sentence the former Diego had said so many times before; something that could be a happy sign of hope to bring him back. "That was the sample from Don Pedro's well. Now I need to test all the others."

"Yes, well done, Son. But I think that can wait a bit; let's go upstairs to have dinner first. I am starving."

They came up into the library through the secret door. Don Francisco was talking to the doctor, who apologized to them for arriving so late.

"Good evening. I am sorry I couldn't come before as I promised, but I had an emergency to attend. What happened? Did you find anything in the water?"

"Yes. Diego found evidences of arsenic in Don Pedro's well," Cristina said.

"Arsenic? Yes! Why didn't I think about that before? Arsenic poisoning will match the clinical signs they had. Well done, Diego. So, do you remember chemistry then?"

"No, I don't, but I find it a fascinating subject."

"Fascinating! That's a way to put it," said Don Francisco, unconvinced. "Come on, dinner is served already."

ZZZ

The next morning, Roberto entered the small cottage, curious. He didn't know about that small property wedged between the vast De la Vega land and the average-size hacienda of Don Pedro. He had just found out the property belonged to the council, to be used by the alcaldes and their families if they didn't want to live in the quarters at the garrison. His two predecessors had been so keen to live at the pueblo, close to the action and Zorro, they had refused to live in there. But Roberto thought the place was full of possibilities.

"The last people living here were the bounty hunters Alcalde De Soto employed to capture Zorro," said Sergeant Mendoza, who had led the new alcalde to the property for inspection. "It is a shame. This is such a beautiful house, and it is falling apart for the lack of use."

"I think I can remedy that, sergeant. To be honest, I would prefer to live here rather than at the garrison, which is quite depressing." Roberto wandered into the next room, the main bedroom. _Plenty of possibilities, yes. _"However, this is going to need some work. I want you to come back with a few lancers this morning to fix that window pane, those broken battens, the ill-fitting back door, replace the broken roof tiles, and finally clean the place spotless, of course, so I could move in here later on today.

"Today?" asked Mendoza, alarmed by the amount of work that would meant for him. "I don't think that's possible, my alcalde. There is so much to do, and the men are busy, and…" Roberto stopped the ranting by raising his hand in front of Mendoza's worried face.

"Don't fret, Sergeant. I know your men had been busy. That's why I am recruiting more lancers today to increase the manpower at the garrison. This is a priority, so get on with it as soon as possible, and let me worry about anything else."

"Sí, mi alcalde," answered Mendoza, snapping his heels at attention. "En seguida."

ZZZ

Cristina woke up late in the morning in Diego's arms. She yawned and stretched like a drowsy, purring cat. That gentle movement made Diego stir, and he woke up as well.

"Good morning, sleepy face," she saluted, smiling in front on his eyes. The night before, Diego had been working at the lab until late testing all the water samples, and after that, once they had retired to bed, they had enjoyed a long night of love making, that lasted until they finally fell asleep, exhausted.

"Good morning, my darling. How are you today?" he asked, gently caressing her head with dreamy eyes.

"Sa-tis-fied," she answered slowly, stressing every syllable. "You were quite the man last night," she added, laughing, delighted to see some love in his eyes at last. He smiled, proudly.

"Well, you are worth the effort, _querida_." He kissed her forehead and left the bed to get dressed. "You know I would love to resume where we left last night, but it is late, and I want to collect more water samples from the wells."

"You can't go there yourself. Someone may see you. Send Felipe."

"I am going as Zorro."

Cristina sighed. _There you go. He is coming back, in every sense._

"Why? Why do you need more samples?"

"Because my father wasted so much water yesterday, I hardly had any left for the final test. I would like to confirm the presence of arsenic in a fresh sample, and also find out where the source of contamination is. After all, arsenic could be in the water as a natural occurrence, depending of the kind of rocks the water is in contact with." Cristina raised an eyebrow, curious. "I read that in the book yesterday. But I doubt it would be the case, because our well is clean; our water doesn't form the yellow crystals. And afterwards, I would like to pay a visit to the alcalde's office."

"Why? What do you want to do there?"

"I don't know, really. But I don't like him, and I have the nagging feeling he may be involved in all this, somehow, as Don Miguel. I just want to sneak in and have a look around, in case I find anything suspicious among his paper work, for example."

"You have to be really careful. I tell you what: you could try to get there at lunch time. He usually has lunch at the tavern. I think he fancies your friend, Victoria, and she is quite soft on him as well.

"Is she? Really? Why?"

"Well, there is no way to deny the alcalde is handsome. And maybe that's what she needs: to forget about you, and get a new love interest."

"What do you mean, _"forget about me?"_

"I told you before. She was in love with you as Zorro, and I think she still is. And to a lesser extent, also a little bit in love with Diego. And you were in love with her, too."

"Me? I like her, but I don't love her." Cristina laughed.

"That was the best, most polite answer for a husband, Diego. I would have hit you otherwise if you had answered differently." She stopped laughing when she saw his troubled expression. Since the brain trauma, Diego wasn't the fastest to appreciate sarcasm and dark humour. Now, for him, words only had one, literal, strict meaning. "I am joking, you fool. But I am so glad you can't remember your feelings for Victoria."

"Well, I don't remember my feelings for you either, but I am working on it," he winked. He finished dressing, kissed her gently again, and walked to the door. "I am going now. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Take care," she said, slumping back on the pillows. _"Don't worry about me." Ha. How could I do that, if every time he dresses as Zorro I feel I am sending a toddler on an important errand?_

ZZZ

Pilar entered the kitchen with a big smile on her face.

"Victoria, I just got an order from the alcalde. He would like you to personally deliver a bowl of albóndigas soup at his quarters at lunch time."

"Why is he not coming to the tavern himself to eat here?" asked Victoria while carrying a crate with empty wine bottles. She left it at the other end of the room, on the floor, and came back to talk to her friend, intrigued.

"I don't know. I guess he wants to have some privacy," she laughed. "How is your affair going?"

"What affair?" asked Victoria, frowning. Pilar laughed again.

"You know what affair! Everybody is talking about you and the alcalde. I am happy for you Victoria; he is such a nice, handsome man. And it is so obvious you like him, because you glow when you see him."

"Do I? Glow?" Victoria asked, embarrassed, flushing red rather than glowing.

"Yes, you do. It is nice to see you smile at last. It was time you'd get over the death of your husband, and that you forget about Zorro. That obsession with him will get you nowhere. If I was you, I would grab the alcalde with both hands and I won't let him go until he married me."

"He hasn't mentioned marriage at all yet. But he told me he is a widow too."

"See? You need each other. This is so exciting! Come on, I'll take care of that," she said, taking the wooden spoon from Victoria's hand to keep mixing the soup. "Go and refresh yourself. You need to look your best."

"But…" she started to protest.

"No buts. Go to your house to change and come back all pretty. Luckily for you, it won't be difficult. Me, I would need a miracle," she laughed again.

ZZZ

Victoria walked the short distance to the alcalde's office carrying a tray with his meal. Following Pilar's advice, she had a quick wash, had applied some rose scent, and had changed her clothes, trying not to over-do it. She was wearing a new, white, short-sleeved blouse and a long, red skirt that enhanced her thin waist. She stopped at the door, hesitating, unsure how to behave. She cleared her throat with a small cough; then licked her lips nervously; and finally knocked gently on the door.

"Come in," said the alcalde from his desk, busy with some paper work. When Victoria stepped in, he rushed up to meet her. "Oh, sorry, Victoria. Is it lunch time already? I didn't realize. Thank you, give me that." He took the tray from her nervous hands and placed it on his desk.

"Is there anything else you need, alcalde?" she asked, politely. Her voice was a bit shaky, and she hated it. She didn't know why that man had such a powerful effect on her, turning her into a helpless mess, like a school girl in love for the first time. She was proud to be a strong, independent woman, but she didn't feel like it at all in his presence. And the way he was looking at her right then… That look made something stir below her navel, and she felt instantly moist and ready to fall in his arms. She got lost into his enigmatic black eyes, unable to break contact with them, like a prey looking at a cobra. He came closer and said a single word:

"Yes." He stood there in front of her, immobile, towering over her head so close she could feel his breath on her face. But he didn't say anything else.

"What is it?" she finally said, in a whisper, trembling like a leaf. He picked up a stray lock of her raven hair, combed it back behind her ear, and then caressed her face slowly, lifting her chin.

"You know what I need." His hand slid down her back and with a sudden move he pulled her closer to kiss her passionately. She responded eagerly to the kiss, passing her arms around his neck, also pulling to get him closer, as if she could not get enough of him otherwise. Roberto's hands rushed to feel her body, and she moaned with desire when he reached her breast. But he didn't go any further, because at that point they heard a loud sneeze in the room and they parted, flustered.

"What was that? Mendoza?" asked Victoria, adjusting her blouse quickly. Roberto shrugged his shoulders.

"Who's there?" he asked with a loud, demanding tone. He looked around the room, but could not see anybody. Then, he noticed a bulge in the curtains. He gestured to Victoria to move away from the window, and walked silently to his desk to collect his sword, that was hanging behind his chair. He walked back to the window with his sword unsheathed and ready, but before he could open the curtains Zorro moved them to a side and stepped forwards, gingerly, with his hat on his left hand.

"Good afternoon, alcalde."

"Zorro, I presume. What are you doing there?"

"Sorry to interrupt, alcalde. Just ignore me. I'm going to leave now. Carry on, please."

"Carry on?" Roberto laughed. "Do I need your permission to court this lady then?"

"No, not really. Do whatever you want." His words were like a knife through Victoria's heart. She blushed, deeply hurt.

"You know, Zorro, I was thinking on granting you a pardon, but now I will need to think harder about it. What are you doing in my office?" His tone changed, hardening to an aggressive one.

"Nothing. Just admiring your new curtains; they are very nice, indeed. Please, keep thinking about the pardon; that would be great, thank you. Señora," he saluted tilting his head, before he put his black hat back on. Victoria was so embarrassed her face matched the colour of her skirt.

Before Roberto could decide what to do, Zorro disappeared through the front door. With his sword up, Roberto rushed to the door behind him, but Zorro was already reaching for Toronado, jumping on the saddle while running, and they galloped away at great speed.

Victoria squeezed by Roberto mumbling: _"I think I better go now." S_he quickly walked back to the tavern, entering the kitchen through the back door to avoid the customers.

Roberto came back to the office and searched the place for any missing items. When he realized the map was gone, he stumped his fist on the table.

"Son of a bitch!"

ZZZ

"_You know what I need…" Jesus! What a load of crap! _Diego thought while galloping away, back to the hacienda De la Vega.

Diego was very upset by the scene at the alcalde's office, but he didn't know exactly why because it didn't make sense. He hardly talked to Victoria now, and the last time he had a proper conversation with her was when she had that awkward cat-fight with Cristina at the hacienda. He knew Victoria had been very much in love with Zorro, and Cristina had recriminated that he had been in love with her, too, as Diego and as Zorro, but it wasn't the case right now. Or… was it? He wasn't sure. As usual, his thoughts and feelings of the past were too blurry. But sure Victoria didn't need Zorro's permission to do anything. And, if she had fallen in love for that twat it was her problem, and only hers, wasn't it? Or was she expecting Zorro to fight the alcalde for her love? He disliked the alcalde a lot, but again, for no particular reason, as everybody else, including Victoria –specially Victoria– seem to be quite happy about him. The man even said he was going to grant a pardon for Zorro. So, why all this apprehension he felt for him, even before he got involved with Victoria? And what was the meaning of that map he had just stolen from his office?

After collecting the water samples at Don Manuel's he had ridden to the pueblo and had climbed up to the alcalde's office roof, where he'd patiently waited until he saw the alcalde going out and into the tavern. It was a bit early for lunch, but he had thought the alcalde was having a long break. Zorro had sneaked then into the office, where he had a quick look at the alcalde's papers. He had found a map of the territory, and was greatly surprised when he'd seen the markings on it. He'd rolled the map and kept it under his black shirt. Right then, he'd heard footsteps approaching the door, so he'd run to hide behind the new, thick, luxury curtains that protected the windows from the blazing sun.

The alcalde had come back into his office to continue his work at the desk, meticulously going through some files. Zorro was trapped behind the curtains, immobile, wondering if he should just show up and then leave. The new, unwashed fabric was rubbing on his nose, and he had trouble refraining from sneezing.

He was about to give up when Victoria came into the office. He had listened to their short conversation, amused, but when they kissed, Diego was confused by his uneasiness. He had felt a pang of jealousy, although that was unfounded, as he was falling in love for the second time with his wife, Cristina. He was surprised by his feelings and, with the stress the new situation caused him, he could not refrain any further, and in the end he had sneezed loudly, revealing his position behind the curtains.

"_Maldita sea. That was so unfortunate," _he thought, recalling the scene._ "Or maybe not. Otherwise, that filthy rat may have taken advantage of her right there at his office."_

With that thought, he wasn't far from the truth.

ZZZ

Victoria came into the kitchen in a state.

"What happened, Victoria? Why are you so upset?" asked Pilar, concerned. Victoria started crying, covering her face with her hands, and she shook her head, unable to talk. Pilar walked up to her and hugged her, trying to calm her friend down. "It's all right Victoria, calm down. I am sure it is not that bad. Please, tell me what happened."

"Zorro," was the word that came out in between Victoria's sobbing sounds.

"Zorro? What does he have to do with this at all?"

"He was there."

"At the alcalde's office? Why would he be in there?" Victoria calmed down a bit, comforted by her friend, and she started talking more coherently.

"I don't know why he was there. He was hiding behind the curtains."

"So? What happened?"

"We were kissing, I mean, the alcalde and me, of course, not Zorro, and he suddenly appeared. It was so embarrassing!" She covered her face again, red as a tomato.

"I bet it was… So, the alcalde kissed you? That's good. Was it nice?"

"Ah… well, yes, but that is not the point."

"Victoria, you are not still in love with Zorro, are you?" She took a long time to answer.

"I thought I wasn't. But when he said he didn't care if the alcalde courted me, I felt so hurt. As if he had stabbed my heart."

"And can you really blame him? Imagine how he may have felt when you left to marry Juan." Victoria nodded in silence, mortified. "Well, stop crying, and take this as a gift. Forget about Zorro once and for all, Victoria. That will be the best thing to happen to you, sweetheart."

"I guess. But it hurts so much."

"Yes, but it will pass soon. Now, tell me about that kiss. Is the alcalde a good kisser?" Victoria had to smile, whipping her tears away.

"Amazing. He is a master." They both giggled. Pilar hugged her friend again.

"I am so jealous! And so happy for you. Should I call you _alcaldesa_ then?" Pilar tried to maintain a serious expression, but after a few seconds she burst out laughing.

"Shut up!" said Victoria, laughing as well, forgetting about Zorro for a moment.

ZZZZZ


	31. Chapter 31 - The Alcalde's Property

**Author's Notes - Warning: **this chapter is **rated M** for sexual content, although most descriptions are implicit, for powerful imaginations.

Sorry it took a while to update, but real life had me busy recently. Also, I had to do quite a lot of research for Roberto background story, which I finally let you know, a little, and about the arsenic poisoning. The persons, buildings and places I mention are real. Enjoy some Wikipedia reading about them, if you wish!

And, please, as usual: leave a review if you can! Thanks.

ZZZ

**Chapter 52 – The Alcalde's property**

"What took you so long, Diego?" asked Don Alejandro when he arrived at the cave in the late afternoon. Cristina had told him about Diego's plan, and they were waiting for him, worried because he was taking too long. "I was about to ride to the pueblo to check on you."

"I stayed hidden at the alcalde's office for a long time, behind the curtains."

"Behind the curtains? Why?"

"Because I didn't want him to see I took this from his desk." He produced a long scroll from under his black shirt, and extended the map on the table. "Have a look."

Cristina didn't recognize the territory on the map, but Alejandro did.

"This is a map of Los Angeles. It shows a large portion of land. Several properties are marked in red, all the ones that had been sold recently, including Don Pedro's and Don Manuel's," he said, following with his index finger the red line marking the perimeter of that land.

"And here is our property, I guess." Diego pointed to a distinctive mark in the map, an ominous, large, red circle with a thick cross over it. Don Francisco's land, to the North, was also singled out with a cross.

"What does it mean?" asked Cristina.

"It means what we already know, that we have been targeted," answered Don Alejandro, cross. "It looks like Don Miguel wants to gain control of the whole territory, buying this large extension of land, but I don't know with what purpose."

"What has this to do with the alcalde? Why has he got this map at his office?" Cristina asked.

"I don't know. That's the next thing we need to find out. I also collected this at the brook at Don Manuel's." Diego got a grey stone out of his pocket, which on one side had some crystals with a stunning, bright red colour.

"What is it?" asked Cristina.

"Arsenic. Well, it is called _realgar_, actually. Before you ask: yes, I also read that yesterday," he smiled. "I found several large stones along the way upstream, which had obviously been dumped in there. By someone who also knows chemistry, I guess, because all contain arsenic in various forms."

"It looks pretty," said Cristina, reaching for the stone, but Diego moved it away from her.

"Don't touch it. It's toxic. You don't want to get poisoned, do you?"

"What about you?" she asked.

"I am wearing gloves. It was in…"

"I know. The books?" she interrupted rising an eyebrow, smiling.

"Of course. _The books_. I think I should try to read them all!"

"Yes, later. Now, we need to get someone officially investigating all these clues. But we cannot tell the alcalde, as he is involved in this," said Don Alejandro.

"What about Sergeant Mendoza? He says he is my friend," said Diego.

"Well, the Sergeant is not the sharpest person, son… but I guess he is the only one we can trust around here right now. I'll write a letter to the new Alcaide at the Presidio in Santa Barbara, too. I know him. He is an honest person, and he may be able to help. And I still haven't got a reply from Monterey. I'll try again, with all the new clues we have gathered."

ZZZ

"This morning I saw that man dressed in black, that Zorro, by the brook at Don Manuel's," said Armando at the alcalde's office.

"What was he doing there?" asked Roberto.

"I don't know. I was quite far away to see clearly. I think he was getting water in a bottle. He left before I could get closer."

"To drink? That would be nice if he kills himself that way," Roberto laughed.

"Well, he didn't drink the water right away." Roberto stopped laughing, as that looked like _sampling_.

"Are the stones still in the brook?"

"I think so."

"Take them out immediately," Roberto ordered. "And take the ones at the well in the other property, don't forget. Now, you," he added, addressing the other five men waiting by his desk, "your first mission as new recruits tomorrow will be taking the stones to the De la Vega's. And keep looking for the signs. This is taking too long already. We have to find it as soon as possible." After buying Don Manuel's and Don Pedro's properties, they were running out of funds quickly. _Unless we find it, I will run out of cash pretty soon to buy any more land legally. Maybe I should have robbed and killed a wealthier caballero back in Chihuahua. _

ZZZ

"It is a nice day out there," said Pilar. "Why don't you take the afternoon off, Victoria? After all, you are the boss, and you are working too much, too hard. You need a break."

"Thank you Pilar. Maybe you are right. Business is quite slow today."

"Go for a ride, or a walk, or something, and get some fresh air. It will make you good."

"All right, I'll take your advice. I'll be back in the evening. See you later!" Victoria left the tavern in a good mood. Pilar was right, she needed a bit of time off. And she could use it to try to sort out the mess in her heart. Or at least, to think carefully about it.

ZZZ

"Sergeant Mendoza, these are the new recruits for the garrison," said the alcalde, proudly, introducing them while making up the names. They were all part of his loyal bunch of men, who up until then, had been out of sight at Don Miguel's hacienda. "These are Corporals: Ramos, Aguilar, Contreras, Funes and Márquez. Please take them to get their uniforms and weapons, and show them the ropes on how this garrisons works. Then you can take them out on patrol, to get used to their horses. Head for the De la Vega land, for example."

"On patrol? Today? In this heat?" complained the lazy sergeant, although it was a nice summer day.

"Yes, Sergeant, in this heat. It is summer, don't you know? What do you expect? Snow?" joked Roberto. He then looked at the inept sergeant with glacial eyes, and addressed him in a harsh tone. "Just do your duty, Sergeant, and don't question my orders." Mendoza gulped. Although the new alcalde was quite nice to him most of the times, he sometimes showed a certain roughness that made the sergeant afraid to ever get him cross.

"Sí, mi alcalde. En seguida. Come on, corporals. Follow me!" Roberto's men walked behind Mendoza, trying not to laugh out loud.

ZZZ

When they all left the office, Roberto opened the safe to look at the old document once again. He had to handle the centuries-old piece with great care, because it had started to crumble around the edges. It had been really unfortunate for him that the part already missing at the bottom right hand corner was the one that probably had contained the coordinates of the location of the cave. He cursed to himself because it was taking too long to find it. At least, that darn Zorro didn't take the document. The irritating outlaw only took the map he had used to mark the land around el Pueblo de Los Angeles with the properties already under his control, and the ones he still wished to acquire. While looking at the document one more time, Roberto recalled the chain of events that had got him into this mess.

After his blunder at Madrid nearly ten years ago Roberto had to leave the country in a hurry, and he saved his neck from the _garrote_ by enrolling at the last moment as deck hand in a ship of dubious reputation anchored at the port of Cádiz, about to depart for the Caribbean. The captain, the proud owner of a _Patente de Corso_ issued by the king Charles IV in 1807, was a privateer that sailed freely all over the world plundering in the name of Spain, and he was one of the last corsarios to do his business legally before privateering was abolished. He was a cruel, violent and extremely vicious man, and Roberto had learnt most of his criminal skills from him. For five years Roberto sailed on that ship, the _Desesperanza_, committing all sort of atrocities against his victims, especially foreign nationals and the indigenous population.

Although he occasionally would sail elsewhere, that captain based his business around the Caribbean islands and Florida, fighting against pirates and other foreign privateers in those waters so well known to him. It was there where Roberto first heard about the legend of a fabulous treasure stolen from the Indians by the Spanish Conquistadors in the 1500's, which was supposedly buried in the land of California. At first, he didn't pay much attention to that old sailor's myth, as there were so many of these stories going from mouth to mouth, the favourite gossip past-time for pirates at sea: buried treasures, waiting for hundreds of years to be taken away. Not only fabulous treasures, like Montezuma's, but even whole cities like the Seven Golden Cities of Cibola, or the legend of _El Dorado_, that could still be occult in the rainforest waiting to be discovered, according to some. Roberto ignored all the stories until 1817, when the _Desesperanza_ unusually sailed to the Philippines, required to do so by King Ferdinand. To improve the success rate in capturing enemy vessels in those waters, Roberto visited the archives in Manila to look for detailed logs and charts of the area. Totally at random and while looking for something else, he found a misplaced, old sailing log of Andrés de Urdaneta, which contained part of a document where he mentioned the exploration journey along the coast of California by another man, Juan Rodríguez Cabrillo, the first European to explore the coast of California in 1542.

Urdaneta was a brilliant navigator of the 16th Century, who discovered the Northern trading route across the Pacific for the Spanish galleons to return from the Philippines to America. He was also an Agustinian friar who lived in Nueva España for a while, in Mexico, and a missionary in the Philippines. That document was obviously part of a larger account of Cabrillo's voyage, written by Urdaneta. It mentioned the discovery of gold lode deposits and the treasure Cabrillo had to leave behind before he died of gangrene of an infected wound. Unfortunately, Roberto didn't find any more information in Manila, as it looked like the document had been misplaced, left unread for centuries, with a small part missing at the bottom, maybe damaged by rodents at the archive. It almost looked like a draft, written so hurriedly it was difficult to read, so Roberto concluded the paper was never part on the official report of Cabrillo's journey. Determined to find more about it, Roberto kept the discovery to himself, and the next time the corsario ship anchored back in Spain at Cádiz, Roberto went ashore to travel to nearby Sevilla. He knew it could be a risky move, as someone could recognize him as the infamous Malpartida in Spain, but he thought it was well worth the risk. Posing as a historian, he visited the _Archivo de Indias_ in Sevilla, the general archive which contained thousands of documents related to the Spanish Colonies since the discovery of America by Christopher Columbus. The Spanish Government always had an extensive administrative system in place, as they liked to keep written accounts of absolutely everything that happened in the empire, so he was disheartened by the amount of uncatalogued documents and information he would have to go through. It took him so long to find something useful about Cabrillo and Urdaneta, the _Desesperanza _sailed off again for the Caribbean without him, and he was left stranded in Cádiz.

Assuming the story was true, and that he was looking in the right spot –something he was starting to doubt due to the lack of results– he should find a profitable, untouched gold mine and part of the treasure that had belonged to an unusual, non-violent civilization of Indians that had lived in the area for thousands of years before the arrival of the Europeans. Their late peaceful survivors and keepers of the treasure were annihilated by the Spanish Conquistadors on their arrival at California, but when the soldiers were attacked later on by another tribe of Indians, the Tongva, they had to leave it behind, buried close to the area Cabrillo had identify as containing significant gold deposits. At the Archive, Roberto found out that Cabrillo had experience with gold mining in Guatemala, and he would have been a reliable prospector at that time, which could be an indication that the story could be true. He also found out those Tongva Indians in Alta California were now called "_Gabrieleños_" by the Padres, and they still lived in a large area surrounding Los Angeles. After many calculations and measurements, he had pinpointed an extension of land around Los Angeles that would be the most likely to contain the gold mine and the treasure mentioned in Urdaneta's document. Roberto then secretly contacted his brother in Madrid, and convinced him to travel to Mexico to devise a plan to get hold of that land. That way, he could start a new life away from Spain as a California landlord, and as Mexico was very likely going to get its independence from the Spanish King quite soon, he thought his crimes against the Crown may even be pardoned.

He carefully took the old document back to the safe, and slammed the door shut in anger.

_But all those dreams are at risk now, thanks to De Soto's big mouth and that annoying Zorro!_

ZZZ

Roberto got out of the garrison riding De Soto's horse. It was a stunning animal, the Russian horse that had belonged to the bounty hunters, and Roberto was quite fond of it. He headed for his property, where he kept some more of the arsenic stones his brother had brought with him from Chihuahua, from the San Antonio el Grande mine, mainly for its poisoning potential –which had proved to be really useful to poison the water– but also for their unusual beauty. Roberto, the same as Diego, was a brilliant student while at University in Madrid, and had taken many courses, including chemistry.

On the way there, he spotted Victoria cantering with her horse at a leisurely, comfortable pace. He spurred the Cossack horse, which effortlessly galloped to catch up with her in no time at all.

"Buenas tardes, señora," he saluted. Victoria jerked her hands, startled, slowing down her horse involuntarily. She was so immersed in her own thoughts she had not noticed the rider approaching. At that very moment, she was actually thinking about the alcalde and how attracted she felt to him. While remembering how good his kiss had felt on her lips, she didn't know how to react when she saw that man there on the flesh, right next to her, like a wish come true out of a genie's bottle. There was no transition from that pleasant memory to reality, so she could not control her reactions and she blushed red.

"Buenas tardes," she saluted back with a trembling voice, which reminded her once again how much she hated the powerful, disturbing effect he had on her. "I didn't hear you coming. You gave me a fright!"

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. But I got so pleasantly surprised to see you ahead of me on the road I had to catch up with you. Where are you heading?"

"Nowhere, really. I am just getting some exercise and fresh air. It is a beautiful, sunny afternoon, and the tavern is so quiet my assistant gave me the afternoon off," she joked.

"I am going to visit my new house. The soldiers should have finished fixing it by now. Would you like to come to see it? I would appreciate your advice on how to decorate it. You have such a wonderful taste, and I think I will need a woman's input in this matter."

Victoria only needed a few seconds to consider his offer, which looked innocent and genuine enough to her and, against her better judgement, she agreed.

"All right, yes, I can do that. I would love to see your property. How far is it?" The lower part of her abdomen started to stir at the thought of another chance to be alone with him, and she realized that, if the alcalde had other plans in mind rather than showing her the house for decorating tips, she wouldn't mind too much.

"Less than half an hour at a gentle trot. This way. It is faster cross country; there is no need to follow the road." He turned his horse to the left, leaving the main path behind. And Victoria followed him, curious, with her heart beating faster in anticipation.

ZZZ

Mendoza led the patrol into De la Vega's land. While he thought about the new recruits, and how efficient they looked at handling weapons and horses, as if they didn't need any training at all to become competent Mexican Army soldiers, the new corporals scanned the landscape looking for the three signs they needed, the ones that marked the location of the cave: a brook, a natural earth wall, and a large granite boulder. So far, they had been unable to find a spot that would fit the description in their boss' old document, and today it looked like they would not be lucky on their search either. At least, they should be able to carry out their other important task: to hide the arsenic stones at the hacienda so they could be "discovered" later on.

ZZZ

On edge, Victoria followed the alcalde to the house, engaging in trivial conversation along the way. As a woman, she knew that being alone with him wasn't the right thing to do, as there was enough gossip about them already, and her reputation had never been spotless in the pueblo, quite the opposite. Nonetheless, when he opened the door for her she stepped inside like on a trance, hypnotized by the compelling magnetism of that man. She knew she would be powerless to resist his advances, which started the moment he closed the door behind them. He didn't even get on with the pretence to show her the house, and went straight to the point, grabbing her hands eagerly to kiss them.

"Victoria, I am so glad you are here. How much I have longed to be alone with you, out of sight from everyone else and the constant gossip. To have you all by myself. All mine." Victoria looked at him mesmerized, with her heart racing wild, unable to say a word. When she lifted her head to meet his enigmatic dark eyes, her lips parted a bit involuntarily, and Roberto saw this as an invitation to fill up that delicious gap. As it had happened before at his office, she welcomed the kiss with a hunger she didn't know she had. She closed her eyes while they fumbled around the room, kissing with a sudden, frantic need to find each other's body. They crashed against a tall bookshelf, trashing a delicate vase that smashed on the floor with a loud noise, but neither of them could be bothered with stopping to evaluate the damage. She barely registered being lifted and carried somewhere else, until she landed softly on a bed, like in a dream.

"You are so beautiful, Victoria. You drive me crazy." He continued the soft talk while undressing her quickly, pausing for a moment to enjoy the sight of her naked body. "Soooo beautiful." Shaking with desire, he stood by the bed and got rid of his own clothes as fast as he could, carelessly ripping some of them apart. She looked at his toned body with interest, and at his huge erection with some apprehension, and he noticed it. He laughed, and pointed at his privates with both hands proudly, showing off. "Don't worry, my dear. I am going to make you touch a piece of heaven with _this_. You'll love it."

His expert hands touched her all over, the same as his tongue, causing all sorts of new sensations at spots she didn't even know she had, on her skin as well as inside her body. She had never felt this way with her husband, and she could not have enough, getting so excited she finally urged him to take her. When he did so, she followed every thrust with her whole body, losing control of her hips, that acted of their own accord sucking him in really deep as she had never done before, while begging for the frantic, sustained rhythm that man could deliver so efficiently. Her first vaginal orgasm in quite a long time was the strongest, longest, and most intense she had ever felt. When she moaned loudly and arched her back, unmistakably showing off her pleasure, her lover didn't finish, as Juan would have done. During their love making, most of the times her husband would release himself very quickly after she had reached an orgasm, as if he could not hold on any longer, but not the alcalde. He carried on instead, and to Victoria's surprise, before he was satiated she had two additional powerful orgasms, each one peaking even higher than the previous one. When she melted for the third time, swimming in her own wave of pleasure with her eyes closed, he suddenly withdrew and she felt his sticky warmth on her tummy. Victoria opened her eyes to look at the sweaty, handsome face hovering over hers, and she smiled broadly. He was such a gentleman he even had had the deference to try to avoid an unwanted pregnancy. He smiled back, panting after the strenuous effort, with drops of sweat sliding down his forehead.

"You are amazing, Victoria," he said, before he collapsed beside her.

"Thank you. So are you, Gabriel," she said, with a satisfied long sigh at the thought of a wonderful, pleasant future by his side.

ZZZZZ


	32. Chapter 32 - The Nightmare

**Chapter 53 – The Nightmare**

Sergeant Mendoza took his helmet off to wash his face in the brook, refreshing his head and neck as well. _The alcalde can scoff at me as much as he wants, but this is a hot day_. He refilled his nearly empty canteen, and then walked away from the running water to get back to his horse. Before he could put his helmet back on, the sergeant hit the ground heavily, unconscious by the unexpected blow one of the new recruits had delivered with his musket when he was distracted.

"Tomás! Not so hard! He looks dead, for goodness sake!" cried Pablo, the man in charge of the group, who reached quickly for Mendoza to check his pulse. The Sergeant was alive, but he had a deep gash at the back of his head, bleeding profusely.

"He is a soldier, not a woman, isn't he? I thought a good wallop would be necessary to render him unconscious."

"Well, not this one, obviously. You two, get the stones at the boss' house. They should be ready in nets to hang from your saddles. Cover them with a rug or something, so nobody can see them. And come back here quickly, before the Sergeant wakes up. It should take you less than twenty minutes; that property is quite close from here. We'll take the Sergeant to the hacienda De la Vega, and when everybody is distracted tending to him, you can leave the stones hidden in the barn.

ZZZ

Victoria kissed the alcalde goodbye, and then he helped her to climb up her horse, pushing her up with his hands lingering at her tight, perfect _derrière _for much longer than was necessary. Now that he finally had her, it was difficult to let her go.

"_Adiós_, my sweet Victoria. I'll see you later."

"_Hasta luego_, Gabriel."

She returned to the pueblo on her own. She did so with her mind distracted, floating, like on a dream, recalling once and again the unexpected turn of events. That afternoon, she had left the tavern for a short ride to get some fresh air and to relax her mind a little; instead, she had enjoyed one of the most intense experiences of her life. When she reached the outskirts of the pueblo, she had to work hard to erase that satisfied, silly grin off her face.

She walked into her house unable to remember anything about the short trip from the alcalde's house to hers. She could not recall which route she had followed, as if the trek had not happened and she had just been dropped at home without transition. It was so odd to feel like that, so out of touch with reality. The only thought that could get her back to Earth, was the realization he didn't say "I love you", or "I want to marry you", at any time.

ZZZ

Roberto was surprised when the soldiers arrived to collect the stones. After all that excitement, he had forgotten the real purpose why he had travelled to that house that afternoon.

"Where is Mendoza?"

"Unconscious. Tomás nearly killed him with that blow." With a stern face, Roberto stared at Tomás, making him swallow in fear. After a few seconds, Roberto relaxed his facial expression as if he was sparing that man's life, and Tomás breathed a sigh of relief.

"All right. Now, take the stones and get the Sergeant to the De la Vega's. Ask for help, as if he had an accident falling off his horse. Follow the plan."

After the men left, he came back to the pueblo to his office, wondering if he should have dinner at the tavern that night.

At his office, he finished the draft of the document granting a pardon for Zorro, with the conditions for the deal he had no intention to abide by.

ZZZ

"My goodness! What happened to Sergeant Mendoza?" Don Alejandro asked, alarmed by his state when the soldiers arrived at the hacienda.

"His horse reared, spooked by a snake, and he fell off, hitting his head on a rock. We were on patrol nearby, and we thought you could help us while we get the doctor."

"Yes, of course. Come in, come in. To the spare room!"

Two soldiers followed him down the corridor, carrying the sergeant's inert body; another one went back to the pueblo to get the doctor; and the other two stayed outside with the horses. When the soldiers left him resting on the bed, Don Alejandro asked:

"How did he damage his head so badly? Wasn't he wearing the uniform's helmet?"

"He was complaining about the heat, and he had loosened up the strap just before the horse reared. The helmet dropped off his head when he fell," Tomás explained, thinking quickly.

Don Alejandro looked at the soldiers, realizing he had never seen any of them before.

"I don't know you. Are you new recruits?"

"Yes, we are. We signed up today. Sergeant Mendoza took us on patrol so we could get used to our assigned horses," said Pablo, the man in charge.

"Wait here. I'll get Felipe. He has some knowledge of medicine my son taught him before he had the accident. Let's hope the sergeant hasn't lost his memory with the blow as my son did."

Don Alejandro warned Diego to be prepared to act "sick", with the usual deception tactics, and explained the youngster the situation, asking him if he was capable to deal with the injured man himself, while they waited for the doctor.

Felipe nodded, taking charge of the situation efficiently. He took a small bag with medical supplies the former Diego had always ready at the library, and followed Don Alejandro to the guest room. He cleaned Mendoza's wound carefully and then he stitched the gap together, thinking it would be better to do it while the sergeant was unconscious, to spare him the discomfort of such painful procedure. Afterwards, as the sergeant was still unresponsive, he used the salts to wake him up. Mendoza moved his head away from the small bottle, shrinking his nose in disgust while sniffing the air like a rabbit, waking up quickly. He opened his eyes and blinked several times; it took him a while to focus properly, but he finally did, on Felipe's face.

"Felipe, why are you here?" he said, with a shaky, raspy voice. Then he realized he didn't know where _here_ was. "Where am I? _Madre de Dios_! My head! It hurts so much!" he cried when he became aware of his banging headache. Mendoza lifted his hands to press on his temples to try to soothe the pain, but it didn't make any difference.

"Don't worry, sergeant. Calm down. You had an accident. You fell off your horse and damaged your head. The soldiers got you here, to the hacienda de la Vega," Don Alejandro explained. "Here, get some bark infusion." The sergeant took the glass and drank some, grateful.

"Thank you, Don Alejandro. When did I fell off my horse? I was by the brook, getting some fresh water… and that's the last thing I remember. I don't remember falling," said Mendoza, confused.

"You took your helmet off at the brook, Sergeant. When you got back on your horse, you left the strap loose. And when the horse reared, unfortunately you lost the helmet before you hit the ground," explained Pablo.

"I don't remember falling," Mendoza repeated.

"I am glad your memory lose is not severe, like my son's. You don't seem to have any other sequels, Sergeant. I think you have been very lucky.

"Indeed," Tomás agreed, nodding. He looked serious, although he had to supress a laugh.

When the doctor arrived with the other soldier, he complimented Felipe's skills with the needle.

"You did a very good job there, Felipe. Now, can everybody get out of the room, so I can examine Sergeant Mendoza alone, without distractions? Thank you."

While they waited, Diego joined them at the library. He walked into the room slowly, dragging his right leg behind.

"Hello. Is this a party?" he asked, like a hopeful child.

"No Son, this is not a party," said Don Alejandro, taking Diego to one of the arm chairs while sending an embarrassed, apologetic look to the soldiers.

"I like parties," continued Diego after sitting down, stammering. He looked deeply disappointed.

"I know Son, so do I." An uncomfortable silence followed, which lasted until the doctor came out of the room and into the library.

"Sergeant Mendoza has a concussion, but it's not as severe as it looks. He can travel back to the garrison this evening in a carriage, but he should rest for a few days. You should tell the alcalde he should be off duty. On doctor's orders."

"Yes, of course. Off duty. Can we borrow a carriage to take the sergeant back?" asked Pablo, willing to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Of course you can. I'll order it ready for you." Don Alejandro left the room, and so did the soldiers. Doctor Hernández looked at Diego, who looked a bit troubled with his forehead resting on his left hand, not sure if he was still pretending or not.

"Are you all right, Diego?" whispered the doctor.

"Yes, doctor, don't worry. I have a bit of a headache myself. It's nothing, thank you," Diego whispered back. Then he smiled. "But nothing near to what the sergeant must be feeling, I guess."

"Yes, I am sure of that," the doctor agreed, smiling back. "Poor man. How unfortunate."

ZZZ

"I knew a bit of time off and fresh air would do you good, Victoria. You look radiant this evening," said Pilar when her boss came back to the tavern.

"Do I? Radiant?" Victoria asked, blushing. Pilar looked at her, suspicious, but she didn't have time to say anything else as she had to attend a customer at the other end of the counter. After that brief exchange, Victoria managed to avoid her employee because the tavern was quite busy that evening. She deliberately got off Pilar's way to attend real or imaginary issues at the tavern, because she knew Pilar could be persistent to get the truth. At least, she managed to avoid her until Roberto came to the tavern, when she had to hide at the back, afflicted by an irrational, intense sense of shame and embarrassment for her actions that afternoon.

ZZZ

"I am so sorry, mi alcalde," Mendoza apologized after the soldiers let him resting at the garrison's infirmary.

"Don't worry, Sergeant. Rest as much as you need," said Roberto, kindly. He was surprised to feel kind of sorry for the poor, innocent bastard. He thought that maybe the encounter with the hot tavern wrench that afternoon had made him mellow, somehow. At least he was in a good mood, for sure. "Good night."

"Good night, mi alcalde."

Roberto left the infirmary followed by his men, and they came back to the office.

"Did you leave the stones at the De la Vega's?"

"Yes, we did. As you ordered," said Pablo.

"Very well. We'll _find_ them later; maybe tomorrow. Now, go to your quarters."

"Do we really need to stay here, at the garrison?" asked one of them, disgusted.

"Of course you do. You can roam freely now to locate the spot. So, you have to act like soldiers, for as long as it takes." The look in his eyes made them unwilling to complain any further, and they headed for the barracks.

Then, Roberto had a quick look at himself in the mirror, retouched his hair and cravat lightly, and headed for the tavern. On arrival, he was delighted to see Victoria blushing, freezing like a rabbit for a moment, before she left quickly to get to the back, out of sight.

He sat down at a table reflecting on the good choice he had made. Victoria was very attractive, of course, but the most important detail for him it was the fact that she was a widow. Such women were always easy prey for him, as they would consider him a potential husband even if he never mentioned the word "marriage" to them. And they were sexually experienced, and usually longing for sexual contact after the death of their husbands. Besides, widows that already had children were able to cope with and appreciate his exceptionally large penis, which was more of a curse than a blessing for him. In contrast, virgins and young señoritas were much more difficult to convince, as they couldn't miss what they didn't know, and they demanded more courting, more promises of marriage and proper attention before they would give consent to his advances. And when they did, usually they complained in pain all the way, making the experience frustrating for both. Definitely, widows were the best for him. Widows and neglected, married women. Like that De la Vega beauty.

ZZZ

"What's wrong, Victoria? You ran away when you saw the alcalde," asked Pilar at the kitchen, behind the curtains.

"No, I didn't," she lied, blushing again.

"Yes, you did. What happened this afternoon, Victoria? Did you see him? Is that why you looked so dreamy this evening?" Pilar just needed to look at Victoria for a few seconds to realize what had happened. "Did you make… oh, my goodness, you did, didn't you?" she laughed, but Victoria didn't find it funny. "Was it good? Did you enjoy it? I bet you did; you had the look of a satisfied woman. I knew it!"

"Shhhh…. Shut up!" whispered Victoria. "Someone may hear you. Is it that obvious?"

"Well… It is for me. But maybe not for anybody else. Calm down. Did he propose?" Victoria shook her head, biting her lips, embarrassed. "Don't worry; he will. Now, you have to face him, and serve him as usual, as if nothing had happened. I am sure other customers may have noticed your reaction tonight, so make sure they don't think any further about it. All right?"

"All right."

"Go on then! Go and get his order!" laughed Pilar, pushing Victoria through the curtains.

She stepped back into the main room, feeling all the eyes on her, although hardly anybody was looking. She walked slowly to the alcalde's table and then she talked with her sweetest voice, trying not to blush again.

"Good evening, alcalde. Would you like something to eat?"

"Yes, of course, Victoria. I am famished." He lowered his voice then, so only Victoria could hear him. "I did some strenuous exercise this afternoon. And so did you." He thoroughly enjoyed it when she blushed redder than ever, up to the top of her head, before she came back to the kitchen in a rush with his order of _pollo con arroz. _

ZZZ

Cristina looked at Diego in the twilight of dawn, quite concerned. He was struggling again, twisting and turning in bed while murmuring unintelligible words. Since he had banged his head, he had suffered from these episodes at least once every three or four nights. This was the second time that particular night. She was very tempted to wake him up, but Doctor Hernández had advised against it. He had said it could be _dangerous_. Most of the times, Diego would wake up on his own and fall back asleep again; and sometimes he would not even wake up, merging the nightmare with a quiet, normal sleep pattern, and the crisis would be over until the next time. In the morning, he could never remember what was causing the anguish in his dreams, and he looked unconcerned about them. However, this time the nightmare was different. The stress seemed more intense, and it was taking him much longer than usual to settle. He was sweating profusely, grunting, and he looked terrified about something. Cristina talked to him gently, but her words made no difference whatsoever. She touched his forehead, and it was hot. That night, he had complained of a mild headache, and he was feeling a bit dizzy, but the doctor said he was all right. But he didn't look alright now. Anxious, she left the room to get Don Alejandro.

ZZZ

The killer was there. He could see him. Or at least, he could see his silhouette against the moonlight, but not his face. Never his face. His face was a sinister black shadow. A black shadow that was moving slowly towards him. A black shadow which frightened him terribly, but he couldn't move away from it. He was more than terrified. He was petrified, anchored to the ground.

The man with the white hair was there too. In that eerie, dark and gloomy landscape, his fluffy white hair shone reflecting the moonlight, glowing like a giant firefly. He was shouting something, but no sound came out of his open mouth. That man also looked afraid of the shadow. He waved his arms and pointed at the advancing dark shape to warn him of something, but Diego could not understand his gestures either. The man with the white, glowing hair, ran in his direction and positioned himself between him and the approaching black shadow. He covered some distance quickly, but, half way on, he tripped and fell over. He carried on crawling on the ground, using his elbows to advance slowly while still producing soundless words.

ZZZ

"Look at him. I don't know what's wrong with him. He can't wake up. He has been like that for more than twenty minutes now. Should I wake him up?" Cristina asked when she returned to the room with her father in law. Diego was still sweating and moaning softly, shaking his head over the pillow, whimpering like a fearful puppy.

"No. You know what the doctor said. It could be dangerous," said Don Alejandro.

"Yes. That's exactly what he said: "it _could_ be dangerous." But he doesn't know for sure, does he?"

"Do you really want to risk it? To damage his mind even further? I wouldn't."

"No, of course not. But, what if he doesn't wake up?"

"He will. He always does. Let's just watch him. Make sure he doesn't fall off the bed, or damage himself on something."

"He has a fever. I am telling you, it's not the same this time," said Cristina, fretting, unable to relax.

ZZZ

The crawling man closed his mouth and then slithered smoothly, like a snake, not using his elbows anymore to advance. He was gliding effortlessly, no longer crawling. He even had a snake tongue, which came out of his mouth from time to time, hissing and whizzing, and Diego could hear that sound clearly, when he had been unable to hear his words before. His eyes became the eyes of a reptile while he kept advancing, and he looked menacing, but Diego didn't feel frightened by him; only by the shadow. When he was close, the man with the white hair stood up in front of Diego, only a couple of meters away, and he continued shouting, with his face showing his normal human features again. He was really shouting, as the veins in his neck were clearly swollen with the effort, and his anxious, frightened eyes were bulging too. But Diego could not hear him, as he produced no sound. In the night, Diego could hear the wind swooshing along the tree tops, and the cry of an owl in the distance. Even the steps of the ominous shadow figure approaching, but he still could not hear the voice of that man shouting in front of him, not at all. Nor could he read his lips.

When the shadow reached the white-haired man, Diego could suddenly hear him at full volume, because when the shadow stabbed his back, the terrified man produced the loudest, most horrifying, desperate, hair-raising cry of utter pain. Then, a huge, non-human, large claw appeared through his abdomen. The man extended his arms to Diego, seeking help while the dark claw moved upwards, ripping the crying man apart. Despite his own fear, Diego wanted to help him, but he could not move his feet from the spot, nor could he lift his arms. He was paralyzed.

"Sorry. I can't help you!" Diego apologized, crying out loud.

Suddenly, a fox came out of the darkness and attacked the black shadow, jumping up to bite his leg, like a dog would do. The shadow continued torturing his wailing victim and didn't let go off him. Instead, he used his other hand to grab the fox's scruff, and pulled the vicious animal up, off his leg. The fox wriggled, trying to twist around to bite his arm, but the mysterious man with a shadow for a face tossed it away with a supernatural strength, and the fox crash-landed against a tree trunk, far, far away. The fox slid down to the ground, where he stayed, immobile, killed by the blow. The dark, shapeless face let out the most sinister laugh, and then, the man with the white hair blew apart like a gunpowder barrel exploding, splattering flesh and blood all over Diego.

ZZZ

Diego woke up shouting. He sat up in bed and with both hands he wiped his face and torso off, hysterically, like trying to get rid of something, while he kicked the sheets away with his feet. He was pedalling out of control, pushing his body against the wall. Panic-stricken, he pressed hard with his back on the wall, like trying to pass through it in an attempt to get away from that invisible source of fear. That horrible thing only he could see.

"Calm down, son, calm down!" Don Alejandro grabbed Diego's upper arms firmly to shake him out of the nightmare. "You are all right. Nothing is hurting you." Diego's eyes darted around the room, still seeing the bizarre, unearthly scene beyond it, until he calmed down and focused on his father's face, coming back to reality.

"That man… I can't see his face. I can't. He is a shadow!" he blurted.

"What man? What are you talking about?"

"He killed the man with the white hair, the alcalde. His white hair glowed in the dark. He was crawling on the ground, like a snake, and he was trying to tell me something, but I couldn't understand him."

Cristina and Don Alejandro's eyes met, with concerned gazes. They hadn't told Diego all the details about De Soto's death, and as far as they knew, Diego didn't know how the alcalde had left a trail of blood on the ground while crawling to deliver his message.

"I couldn't move. I couldn't help him. I was paralyzed."

"What else did you see, Son?" Don Alejandro asked, raising an eyebrow. He believed in premonitions and dreams, as he had had a few odd ones in the past which had become true later on.

"A fox came out of nowhere, and bit the man's leg. He grabbed the fox and threw it away with an incredible force, and the poor animal crashed against a tree. I think it was dead; it didn't move afterwards."

"A fox?" asked Cristina. Diego nodded, still not seeing the connection. "That could be a symbol for… you, _Zorro_." Don Alejandro gasped.

"And you actually did crash against a tree!" he said, anxious. Diego was trembling, with his cheeks bright red, and he was still sweating, looking feverish.

"Here, drink some water," said Cristina, offering him a glass. While he drank, she touched his forehead again. "Jesus! You are really burning up! Quick, Don Alejandro, prepare some bark infusion!"

His father hurried up to the kitchen, but when he came back with the drink, Diego had fallen back into a restless sleep. They tried to wake him up, unsuccessfully.

"I'll get the doctor!" said Don Alejandro. By then, the sun was rising on the horizon and some people in the house had already woken up. On his way out he saw Felipe, who volunteered for that task, as usual, so Don Alejandro could stay with Diego instead. On his way to the pueblo, Felipe thought that maybe the good doctor should take quarters at the hacienda, as he was required to visit there so many times, it would certainly be easier.

ZZZZZ


	33. Chapter 33 - Unexpected Visits

**Chapter 54 – Unexpected visits**

Doctor Hernández took Diego's temperature again. It hadn't changed. His thermometer still read over 105°F. He shook his head, disappointed, and changed the cold compress on Diego's forehead. He also applied more alcohol to his wrists, palms and soles, but nothing seemed to be working to bring his temperature down. Diego had been like that for hours, unresponsive to any stimuli, but agitated and restless at the same time, as if he was the victim of an endless nightmare.

"Is he getting better?" Don Alejandro asked, anxious.

"Not really."

"Why? What's wrong with him now? He was out as Zorro yesterday; how can he be so sick all of a sudden? For the last few days he has looked more alert and coherent than he has been since the accident. I thought he was doing very well and we were going to get the old Diego back."

"I don't know what's wrong. I hope I am mistaken, but it could be meningitis, and that's not good news."

"Meningitis? What's that?"

"An inflammation of the membranes covering the brain. One of the symptoms is high, unresponsive fever."

"Is that serious?"

"Yes."

"Can you treat it?"

The doctor puffed, frustrated. "I am trying, Don Alejandro." Of course he was trying.

"Maybe we should try to get him into the cold water again," Don Alejandro suggested, as he needed to do something, anything, other than waiting for his son to wake up.

"It didn't make any difference before. And moving him into the bath wasn't an easy task, remember? Your son has a large frame, unfortunately for us in this case."

Don Alejandro nodded, disappointed, and paced up and down the room again, agitated, making Cristina even more nervous.

"Why don't you go outside? Have a walk on the fields, or something. There is nothing else you can do here, and you are driving me insane with your random pacing," she complained.

"Sorry. You are right. I need to burn up some energy."

He left the hacienda at a brisk pace, heading east, but nowhere in particular, lost in thought. Only yesterday, Diego was perfectly fine. He had got the map from the alcalde's office acting as Zorro, and he had found out the water was poisoned with arsenic, remembering how to use the instruments in the laboratory. He was doing so well Don Alejandro thought he was going to get his old son back, and that Zorro was going to uncover the plot. Why did Diego get so sick again all of a sudden? It wasn't fair. Don Alejandro could not face another chance to lose his son. Not again.

Not far from the house he saw a rider approaching at a fast trot. He recognized him, and was gladly surprised to see him, as it had been years since the last time.

"Eagle Eye! How are you? It's been a long time since your last visit."

**ZZZZZZZ**

**A.N** **– **_**"Eagle Eye" is an O.C who appears in my other story "Golden Opportunity". He is a no-nonsense Serrano Indian who knows Diego is Zorro. Read that story if you want to know more about him. If you do, a review on that story would be nice! Specially from those Spanish readers I saw recently on the stats, as I hardly ever see any Spanish ff readers. Say "hola" to a fellow Spaniard, lurkers!** _

**ZZZZZZZ**

"Hello, Alejandro. Come to see Diego. Is he sick yet?"

"Yes, he is. How do you know that?"

"Had a dream. Crow told me he'll be very sick, so I came to help. Crow also told me he needs to remember."

"Yes. He had an accident and damaged his head. He has amnesia; he forgot everything."

"_Everything?_"

"Yes, even his name." Don Alejandro wondered about the look the Indian gave him, until he realized why. "Yes, that. He also forgot that he is Zorro."

"Now you know?"

"Yes. He told me everything before he had the accident, a few months ago. I know he was, well, he still _is_, Zorro. We re-trained him for that." Eagle Eye looked puzzled. "Oh, never mind. The important thing is you are here, and you can help him, can't you?"

"Yes. Help. Take me to him. Hop on." The Indian offered his hand to help the old don to climb up his horse behind him, on the rump, but Don Alejandro rejected the offer. There was not much space with all the gear the horse was carrying, and he wasn't as agile as he would like to nowadays. More than a helping hand, he would have needed a ladder to get up there.

"Don't worry. I came walking, and I'll come back walking; the hacienda is not that far away. Diego is in his room. You know where it is. Go ahead; I'll catch up with you."

Eagle Eye nodded and trotted away, leaving Don Alejandro behind.

ZZZ

Sergeant Mendoza woke up feeling a bit better. He still had a persistent, although milder, headache; nothing like the pain he had suffered the previous day. He wondered if that was a valid excuse to stay in bed all morning. As the alcalde had told him to rest as much as he needed on doctor's orders, he decided to follow the advice and do nothing all day, something that appealed to his lazy nature. He sighed, content, pulling the blanket over his head to obscure the sun light coming through the window shutters, and he got back to sleep, snoring soundly for the rest of the morning.

He missed all the excitement outside in the plaza when the alcalde announced an Official Pardon for Zorro.

ZZZ

"Who are you?" Cristina asked when the Indian came into the room without knocking at the door, startling her.

"Eagle Eye. Came to see Diego."

That introduction meant nothing to Cristina, who didn't know anything about the Indian as she had never seen him before, nor had she heard about him, but she relaxed when she saw Felipe smiling broadly. He obviously knew that man well, as he approached the Indian to give him a hug, patting his back enthusiastically.

"Hello Felipe." The Indian also hug the young man warmly. Then, he pushed him apart to look at him. "You grow. Tall, strong man now. Child no more."

Felipe beamed at his words, proud. He signed quickly to Cristina, telling her who that man was, but she didn't understand him.

While Felipe tried again, the Indian got closer to Diego. He touched his forehead, and left it there for a few seconds, while his intense gaze was fixed on his delirious, restless sleep. He lifted his hand slowly and then he said, with a serious, worried expression:

"Too hot. No time to waste." He walked out of the room quickly, passing by the doctor, who came back into Diego's room with another freshly prepared infusion.

"Who's that?" asked Doctor Hernández.

"Eagle Eye. Felipe says he is a friend. He came to help Diego. Apparently, he knows traditional Indian medicine."

"If at least Diego would swallow some on the infusion… That would help. But he's only taking very small amounts at a time, hardly anything. It's not enough." The doctor sat down by Diego's side on his bed, and tried to administer some of the green liquid with a spoon, pouring some into his mouth, but Diego did no effort to swallow it, at all. If anything, in his restless sleep, at least he managed to drool it out on one side of his mouth without choking with it.

ZZZ

When Don Alejandro reached the hacienda he found Eagle Eye outside, rummaging through some wild plants that grew close to the well.

"What's that? What are you doing?" asked the old don.

"Jopi. I need one," said the Indian without looking at him, concentrated in the task of finding a long stem to cut, one as thick and long as possible.

"Is that Joe Pye weed?"

"Yes. Good for fever. And hollow."

"Hollow?"

"Yes. Look." He found the long, straight stem he was looking for and cut it close to the root with his knife. With expert, fast hands, he peeled all the leaves and flowers off and placed them into a leather bag, and then he blew on the naked, now smooth and flexible stem. "See? Hollow."

Eagle Eye walked back to the hacienda, followed by Don Alejandro, who was very intrigued by his actions. He couldn't fathom what the stem was for. The Indian got one of the bags the horse was carrying, and then, before coming back into the house, he walked into the tool room to collect a spare piece of wood.

At the hacienda, he walked straight into the kitchen to brew an herbal tea with the Joe Pye leaves and flowers, adding some more plants he had in his bag to the mixture. Then, he came back to Diego's room. The doctor was still trying to give Diego some of his infusion, unsuccessfully. Without a word, the Indian grabbed the bowl the doctor was holding, sniffed the infusion, and tried a little sip.

"Not good enough. Won't work."

"By all means, if you know anything better, please, try. I am running out of options here; nothing seems to work to break his fever," said the perplexed doctor, mildly offended by the Indian's attitude, but curious at the same time.

"Felipe, help. Hold his jaw close, don't let Diego bite stem." He roughly got Diego's mouth wide open, as if he was examining a horse's mouth; placed the wooden wedge between his teeth; and held it in place by pressing on his jaw. Felipe did as instructed, while the Indian passed the long stem down Diego's throat, waiting for him to swallow it. When he did, he pushed it deep down to reach the stomach. Then, he took the cup containing his tea and took a large sip, which he poured carefully through the plant stem, directly from his mouth. He repeated the process several times, until the whole drink was transferred that way.

"Good idea. Why didn't I think of anything similar?" said the doctor, impressed.

"Will take a while to get fever down," said Eagle Eye, pulling from the stem to remove it quickly, but gently. Felipe stopped pressing on Diego's jaw and he removed the piece of wood, handling it back to the Indian. "Have to prepare shelter for ritual."

"What ritual?" Don Alejandro asked.

"Peyote."

"That's the Devil's plant!"

"No. Peyote is healing, sacred plant. Powerful medicine to heal body, mind, heart and spirit."

"But, it's evil! It causes visions, and madness, and calls the demons upon you!" Don Alejandro was really worried. That's what the Padres and the Church said about that plant the Indians called peyote.

"Yes, evil will only show if inside. But Peyote can't cause evil. It makes you see it, if you already have it." With these words, he walked out of Diego's room.

"What does he mean?" Don Alejandro asked, puzzled. Cristina shrugged her shoulders.

"I have no idea. But I like his style. I think we should let him try. He may be able to get Diego's memories back."

"I am not sure. A demon may possess Diego while he is under the effect of that drug."

"You are not serious, are you?" laughed Cristina.

"Yes, I am. I don't think this is a good idea, at all. Doctor, what do you think?"

Doctor Hernández coughed and cleared his throat, troubled by the question. He didn't agree on the persecution of the drug by the Church on those grounds, as he doubted the ritual would contact evil spirits through diabolic fantasies. On the other hand, he believed that tampering with the mind with hallucinogenic and psychoactive drugs could be dangerous, and may not be a good idea. However, in this case, he had run out of ideas to help Diego a long time ago.

"I don't know. It may help Diego, as nothing else seems to be working, but it could be dangerous and damage his mind even more. I don't know," he finally said, looking defeated.

"All right then, I oppose to this. I'll tell Eagle Eye to forget about it."

"Wait! Don't do that. He knew how to give Diego the medicine. I think he knows what he is doing," said Cristina.

"I won't risk having Diego possessed by an evil spirit, Cristina. Or damage his mind even more, as the doctor said. I won't allow it."

"You should keep an open mind. Just remember how you all gave up on Diego when the German shot him at the duel. All of you thought he was going to die, but I used the positive energy to bring him back. There are so many forces in nature we don't know how to handle anymore, but some native people still do."

"Nonsense! Diego recovered because God wanted him to recover. But God and the Catholic Church don't want him to use that evil peyote. And neither do I!" He left the room to stop whatever preparations Eagle Eye was making for the ritual. Cristina looked at the doctor for back up, but he lowered his eyes and looked at the floor, as he didn't want to get involved in the discussion. Felipe expressed his support by squeezing Cristina's shoulder gently, and she tapped his hand softly.

"Thank you, Felipe."

ZZZ

After lunch, Victoria closed the tavern and went home for a well-earned siesta. The niñera had got little Alejandro to sleep already in his room, and she was glad to be allowed to leave the house for a couple of hours. After she left, everything was quiet in the house, with total silence. Victoria made herself a cup of camomile tea to relax and unwind, and she was about to retire to bed when she heard a soft knocking at the door.

She was greatly surprised to find the alcalde outside, something completely unexpected.

"Good afternoon, my dear Victoria," he said with a beaming smile.

She froze and couldn't say anything, not even greeting him politely, even less inviting him inside.

"May I come in?" he asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Oh, yes. Sorry, yes, of course. Come in." She looked out to the street, and could not see a soul that would gossip about the alcalde coming into her house, although they may have been looking through the windows.

"This is a nice little house," he said, trying to start an easy conversation, as Victoria looked really nervous.

"Yes, it is."

"Where is your son?"

"He is asleep, in his room."

"You are so lucky to have a precious living memory of your husband, Victoria. I wasn't so fortunate. My child died shortly after he was born."

"Yes, I know. You told me that before. I am so sorry for you."

Another awkward silence followed, which Victoria broke with the issue that had her mind occupied all morning.

"Thank you for granting that pardon to Zorro. He is a good man. Unfortunately, he had to become an outlaw to help the people of this pueblo, but he is not a criminal," she said, with her eyes gleaming gratitude.

"You speak so fondly of him; always so passionate about that Zorro… does it mean I have a competitor if that man is free to roam the pueblo without a mask?"

Victoria blushed again. That was precisely what she had been thinking all day since the alcalde had announced that Zorro would be pardoned. He came closer and held her hands, caressing them with his thumbs.

"You'll break my heart if you choose him over me."

Her heart was a mess, as always, but her head kept telling her the alcalde was the best option. Among other things, she liked him, a lot; he had an important position in the community, and he could provide nicely for her; besides, he was a widow as well, willing to settle; and, as a bonus, he could give her extreme pleasure. The only piece missing was that he hadn't talk about love or marriage yet, and in the back of her mind, a little voice was telling her the alcalde was taking advantage. However, she was trying hard to suppress that little voice. In the middle of her mental debacle, Roberto came closer to kiss her, but she turned her face away from him.

"How much do you like me, Gabriel?" Victoria asked coyly, after she rejected his kiss.

"Like you? No, I don't _like _you." He paused to enjoy her sad, disappointed face, and then he said what she needed to hear. "I don't like you; I LOVE you." He got her in his arms again to kiss her, and this time she melted away, powerless to resist any more. After the longest, most delicious kiss ever, he paused for a brief moment to look at her lovely face. He took her hand and walked her to her bedroom. "I love you," he repeated, while reaching for her blouse, which he gently lifted over her head to uncover her breasts. She let him play with them while she moaned softly, getting as excited as the day before. "I love you," he said again, when he pulled her skirt down, followed by her underwear, and then he carried Victoria to her own bed.

Those three words resonated in her head while they made love for the second time, as she tried to convince herself she also loved Gabriel Salamanca, and not Zorro. Or Diego. Or anybody else. Only Gabriel.

ZZZZZ


	34. Chapter 34 - The Arrest

**A.N – sorry it took me so long to update this story, but I was sidetracked writing the "Eye of the beholder" story. As that one is finished, no more distractions from now on, I hope. **

**Now, much more trouble coming Cristina's way (and everybody else's). Enjoy. And review, please.**

**Chapter 55 – The Arrest**

When Don Alejandro approached him, Eagle Eye was at the entrance, by his horse, collecting the large, hand-painted, brightly coloured canvas he had brought with him to fashion a spiritual, sacred shelter. The old don looked troubled and upset, so the Indian stopped what he was doing to listen what he had to say.

"Eagle Eye, I am sorry. I know you have good intentions, but I don't want you to give my son peyote. I don't think this is a good idea."

The Indian looked at him intently, with his unsettling, penetrating gaze.

"What you afraid of?"

Don Alejandro hesitated, confused. What was he really afraid of? Evil spirits possessing Diego? As Cristina had said, it sounded ridiculous. So, he went for the scientific reason instead.

"Doctor Hernández thinks it could be dangerous to give Diego a drug that alters the mind. His mind is very fragile; he could get worse instead of improving."

"Ah. _Doctor_ thinks that. But, what do youthink?"

The Indian's eyes were fixed on Don Alejandro's. The old don felt as if Eagle Eye could read his mind, looking into his deepest thoughts while waiting for an honest answer.

"I don't want to risk an evil spirit possessing my son." He sighed, embarrassed. _There, I said it_. But Eagle Eye was still staring at him, still not blinking.

"Pointless to worry, Alejandro. Diego already haunted by evil spirit. I can sense it, close. But not the kind you think."

"What do you mean? What evil spirit? A demon? Is that why he has a fever? Is he going to…?"

Eagle Eye raised his hand in front of Don Alejandro's face to stop the worried ranting.

"No. Calm. Evil spirit is around, but don't come from spirit kingdom. He haunts Diego's dreams. But he's alive, among us."

"How do you know that?"

"I can feel it," the Indian repeated, shrugging his shoulders. "Diego has to remember; it is important. Crow told me. He needs peyote."

"Can you give him something else to remember? Other than that?"

"I can. But not so good. Won't work so well. Peyote best medicine. More powerful."

"All right. Carry on with the preparations for that ritual, then. I'll think about it. Let's see if Diego wakes up with the medicine you already gave him, and then he can choose what he wants to do himself."

"Can build ritual shelter in there?" he asked, pointing to the patio inside.

"Yes, take what you need from the tool room, and the barn. Ask my workers for help if you need to."

"Felipe can help me."

"Yes, Felipe. I'll tell him." Don Alejandro came back to the house while the Indian carried on preparing the materials he needed to build the shelter.

ZZZ

"Should I come back tomorrow?" Roberto asked when he reached for the handle of the front door. Victoria hesitated. She didn't like the idea of having sex with him regularly until they were married, but she enjoyed it so much she nodded with a shy smile.

"That would be nice, Gabriel. See you later."

He kissed her goodbye and then left the house at a brisk pace, back to his office at the other end of the street. He had plenty of things to do that afternoon, much less pleasant than courting beautiful widows, and he was already late.

ZZZ

"Who is that Indian building something outside?" asked Don Francisco to his daughter when he came back from his hacienda. He had been supervising the building work for his new home, which he hoped would be ready in a few weeks, so the Blascos would not need to be lodged at the De la Vega's any longer. "And how is Diego? Is he better?"

"His temperature has come down a bit after that Indian gave him a different medicine. His name is Eagle Eye; he is building a shelter to do some kind of a spiritual Indian ritual to try to get Diego's memories back."

"Is he? Blimey, that would be great if it works. And where is your mother?"

"She took Sofía for a walk to collect berries. She is so worried about her dad she keeps coming in to see him, and then she cries when he doesn't talk back," she said with a sad tone.

"Poor little soul. I'll get her on a pony ride when they come back, to keep her entertained."

"Thank you. She'll love that."

At that moment, Don Alejandro also came into Diego's room.

"How is he? Better?"

"Yes, a little. The fever is coming down; only slowly. The doctor went to see another patient, but he left the thermometer so we could check Diego's temperature. It is 103 degrees now."

"That's still high, isn't it?"

"Yes, but it was higher before; it was 105."

"Has he woken up?"

Cristina shook her head. "Not yet."

They stopped talking, alarmed by the sound of voices and commotion in the house, when the alcalde arrived with a bunch of soldiers.

"You can't come inside unannounced!" cried María, the house keeper. "Let me get Don Alejandro first!" Loud footsteps followed when the soldiers ignored the servant and spread all over the property.

The trio came out of Diego's room to see what was happening. Upset, Don Alejandro confronted them.

"Alcalde, what are the soldiers doing here? What do you want?"

"Oh, there you are, Don Alejandro. And Don Francisco, as well. How convenient. I am here to arrest you both for the murder of alcalde Ignacio De Soto, and for poisoning the water supply of your neighbours."

"What? Why would we want to kill alcalde De Soto? Or our neighbours? Don't be ridiculous. This is preposterous!" shouted Don Alejandro, shocked. "Besides, someone tried to burn my hacienda and they succeed to burn Don Francisco's. You should investigate who did that, rather than coming here with wild, unfounded accusations!"

"Soldiers, arrest these men. And search the whole property for evidences."

"Get your hands off me!" complained Don Francisco, livid, when one of Roberto's men grabbed his right arm. He tried to shake it off, but the soldier had a good grip on it. He pulled harder to get rid of him, but another soldier got hold of his other arm as well to keep him quiet, and Don Francisco struggled in between. Another two soldiers grabbed Don Alejandro, and he also complained, trying to get away.

"Leave me alone!" he roared. "This is absurd!"

"I suggest you two cooperate and come with us peacefully, or we'll use the force that we deem necessary," said Roberto, enjoying the moment. This idea of prosecuting the owners of the properties he wanted was much better than burning their haciendas. After they were convicted and executed for their alleged crimes, it would be more satisfying to expropriate their haciendas for free rather than buying them cheap.

Cristina was speechless, watching the scene with her jaw dropped. Finally, she reacted when one of the soldiers grew impatient with her rebellious father, who gasped in pain and stopped struggling when the soldier abruptly kicked his shin hard, on his bad leg. The kick was a well calculated, momentary distraction to twist Don Francisco's arm behind his back to force him down to the ground on his knees with the pain, to keep him under control.

"Stop it! There is no need for that! I don't understand what you are playing at, alcalde. You have no proof they did anything wrong at all. And they haven't."

"Señora de la Vega, keep quiet or I'll take you to jail as well," the alcalde menaced. He looked at her, expectantly, wishing she would carry on complaining to give him an excuse to take her away, but for once in her life, she backed off.

Corporal Sepúlveda hesitated watching the new recruits jostling the old dons to tie their hands behind their back. If Sergeant Mendoza was there, he would have complained to the alcalde already to stop the abuse. Sepúlveda thought it was his duty to step up, as Mendoza would have done, but he was also afraid of the new alcalde. He coughed a couple of times and cleared his throat before he said, with an unsecure tone:

"Alcalde, I don't think it is necessary to harm them like this. They are not criminals."

"Are they not? Of course they are criminals; they killed my predecessor. Shut up and do your duty, corporal. Search the house, as I said. Now!"

ZZZ

Victoria tried to avoid Pilar at the tavern, unsuccessfully. Apparently, her employee had the strange ability to sense when she was having sex, and now she was trying to get some juicy information. She was like a dog with a bone. In the end, Pilar managed to corner Victoria in the kitchen, and confronted her.

"So, what happened this afternoon, Victoria? Sorry, you have that look again. I know something happened, so please tell me."

Victoria puffed. She knew the only way Pilar would leave her alone was to tell her the truth.

"Gabriel came to see me at home at siesta time."

"Really? Did he? In your house?" she pretended to be shocked, but she was, in fact, delighted for her friend. "Where was Alejandro? And the niñera?"

"I didn't know he was going to show up. At all. Alejandro was already asleep when I got there for a siesta, so I told Isabel to go home on a short break too."

"So, what happened? Did he propose?"

"Not yet. But he said the magic words."

"What magic words?"

"You know... The _three _magic words."

"No! He said _"I love you"_?" Victoria nodded, smiling smugly. "That's fantastic! When are you seeing him again?"

"He said he could come back tomorrow, but I am having second thoughts. I don't think it is a good idea to have sex with him regularly before we get married. It is not proper. Besides, little Alejandro and Isabel will be there."

"Don't worry about that. Tomorrow is my day off. I can take care of your little boy for you. I'll take him to my house. You won't need Isabel at all."

"That's a very nice offer, Pilar, but, why would you do that?"

"Because I want you to be happy, Victoria. I think your time for happiness has finally come." She laughed, excited. "And he is going to get so hooked on you, he'll have to propose. You'll see."

Victoria sighed, dreamy. She hoped Pilar was right.

ZZZ

While searching the house, followed by a vigilant Cristina, Roberto found one of the realgar stones in the library, on one of the top shelves. It was a beautiful specimen, similar to the ones he had placed on the nets the day before for the soldiers to hide in the barn, but he didn't remember taking that particular one yesterday, as it was exceptionally pretty. Either studious Diego had a stone himself, or that stone had been collected from the brook at Don Manuel's at some point. And Armando had seen Zorro by the brook.

But Diego could not be Zorro. Or, could he? Ever since he saw Zorro at his office, Roberto had wondered about his blue eyes. Not many men in the pueblo had blue eyes, but Diego had. Nonetheless, the idea that he was pretending to be sick was ludicrous, so it could not be him.

"What is this stone? It is pretty."

"I don't know," said Cristina, with a neutral tone, mentally cursing Diego for leaving the stone at the library instead of at the cave. The old Diego would have never been so careless.

"Is this your husband's?"

"Yes. It has been sitting there for a long time. He found it before he had the accident, for his rock collection."

"Really? It's not dusty."

"Lucía is a very good cleaner."

"Not so good. The rest of the self is covered in dust," he said with a mocking tone, collecting some in his index finger to show Cristina. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to be calm.

"Maybe she just polished the stone, as it looks so pretty," she said, defiantly.

"Maybe." A creepy smile was fighting its way at the corners of his lips, but he tried to maintain a serious expression. "Where is your husband? I haven't seen him today."

"He is sick."

"Really? Again? I need to see him."

"I don't think it is a good idea. He has a fever; he needs to rest."

"Señora de la Vega, take me to see your husband right now." His tone was so cold and harsh he didn't need to follow the sentence with a specific, detailed threat of what would happen if she didn't.

ZZZ

"I found this in the barn," said Tomás. He showed one of the bright red stones to Corporal Sepúlveda.

"What's that? It looks pretty."

"I don't know, but they have a few of them. I'll show you."

Sepúlveda followed the new recruit to the barn. As he said, in the barn there was a large amount of similar stones covered by a blanket and some straw. Sepúlveda called one of the ranch hands who was loading straw in a wheelbarrow.

"Can you tell me what this is for?"

"I don't know. I've never seen those stones before, señor. I don't know who left them there."

Corporal Sepúlveda took a couple of the stones to show them to the alcalde, in case they could be considered _evidences_, although he really didn't want to get involved incriminating the De la Vegas in anything.

ZZZ

"What's wrong with him now?" asked Roberto, after he tried to arouse Diego out of his restless sleep, unsuccessfully. He touched his forehead, and as his wife had said, he had a fever. He pushed his eyelids apart to look at his blue eyes, and he was still unresponsive, not trying to blink, offering no resistance.

"I don't know. He has been like that since the early morning. The doctor can't get his fever down. He mentioned something about meningitis."

Roberto knew that term, and he knew it was not good news. With a bit of luck, Cristina would become a widow pretty son, the same as the tavern owner.

"Who are you?" He looked at the Indian that leaned against the wall inconspicuously, at the other side of the room. Eagle Eye had been watching all his actions, immobile like a piece of furniture, but ready to intervene if it was necessary.

Eagle Eye knew that man was the evil spirit. He had felt an intense wave of repulsion and fear when he first saw him coming into the house, getting goose bumps and a tingling sensation on his neck, when the hair at the back stood on end as if he was a black cat catching a glimpse of the spiritual underworld. While the man argued with Don Alejandro, the Indian had made his way to Diego's room, where he stayed to protect him, although he didn't know exactly how.

"I'm Diego's friend. I'm helping him," he said, defiantly.

"Helping? Really? What are you doing to help? You were outside, building a tent only a while ago." He had seen the Indian outside, and was intrigued by the colourful canvas of that tent. "What is it for?"

The Indian looked at him, tense, with his characteristic deep gaze drilling the alcalde's eyes, making him uncomfortable.

"What is it for?" he asked again. The Indian still didn't answer. Roberto walked around the bed to face him, but Eagle Eye was saved by the interruption of Corporal Sepúlveda.

"Alcalde, we found these stones in the barn, hidden. I don't know what they are. Are they _evidences_?"

Roberto took one of the stones, and showed it to Cristina.

"Do you recognize this?" She shook her head, nervous. "It is pretty similar to the stone I found at the library. And, I do know what it is. It contains arsenic. I have seen it in the mines in Chihuahua. Corporal, take all the stones and take them back to the garrison, together with the prisoners. This is enough to convict them for the murder of Don Pedro Ramos and his daughter, Angelita."

"This is absurd! That doesn't prove anything!" Cristina complained.

"If you have any official complaints, or any information on the matter that you would like to share with me, I'll see you at my office later. Have a good day, señora de la Vega." He walked past her, sending a last suspicious look to the Indian. He decided to ignore him, as he didn't like his unnerving stare, and probably that tent was not important.

Cristina followed the alcalde and the soldiers to the front door. Don Alejandro and Don Francisco were already mounted on their horses, with their hands bonded behind their back. Two soldiers were holding their reins, ready to go back to the pueblo.

"Don't worry. I'll get a lawyer. We'll get you out of jail in no time at all," she said. Don Francisco nodded. He wanted to add "_don't do anything foolish_," but he didn't dare.

"Don't count on it, señora. Soldiers, let's go," ordered Roberto.

Cristina watched them go down the road, towards Los Angeles. When they were a safe distance away, Eagle Eye spoke behind her, startling her, because she had not realized the Indian was there.

"That man you call _alcalde_. That's the evil spirit I can sense."

"What evil spirit? What are you talking about?" asked Cristina. She had missed the conversation with Don Alejandro, and she didn't know the Indian had said he was around. But she agreed; there was something really sinister about that man. She had also felt it from the beginning, when he first saw him in the pueblo.

"He is haunting Diego. He is dangerous."

"_Haunting_? What do you mean, haunting? As in _possessing_?"

"No. Haunts his dreams. Please, be careful. He is a bad, bad seed."

"I will. But I have to talk to him, and see my father and Don Alejandro. He can't throw them in jail and accuse them of murder without a proper trial."

"Can do what he wants. And he will."

His ominous words send a chill down her spine. _Not if Leonardo can do anything about it_, she thought, feeling feisty. Although, she had promised to Diego she would not endanger herself ever again as Leonardo. But, she had broken than promise once before, when she visited alcalde De Soto… Maybe she could do the same again if it was necessary.

When they were far away and Cristina was about to go back to the house, Doña María Luisa and Sofía arrived with a basket full of blackberries.

"How is daddy? Is he better?" asked the little girl, hopeful.

"No, sweetie; he still hasn't woken up. Do you want to go and see him?" the little girl nodded and ran inside, while her grandmother looked at the group of soldiers in the distance.

"Why were the soldiers here? What happened?" she asked.

"_Hell_, mother. That is what happened." She sighed deeply and told her mother the bad news as gently as she could.

ZZZ

Roberto headed back to the pueblo at a fast pace, and the soldiers followed him. Don Alejandro and Don Francisco were struggling to keep up, with their hands bonded behind their back and their horse's reins in the hand of a soldier in front of them, out of their control. Especially Don Francisco was having trouble because his chronically lame, painful and stiff leg had been playing up recently, and the hard kick he had received on his shin didn't help matters either. He tried to re-fit his foot deeper on the stirrup, as it was slipping out, but he lost it altogether while galloping. He cursed, but he didn't say anything to the soldiers, too proud to ask for help. Don Alejandro watched his friend leaning dangerously to a side, out of balance.

"Slow down! Our hands are bonded, and you are going too fast!" he cried out. Roberto looked back, and he realized Don Francisco was struggling. With a malicious smile on his face, he ordered a sudden halt. He stopped his horse, and the soldiers did the same behind him, with their horses bumping into each other's as there were so many of them ridding so close in that party. As a result of the abrupt change of speed, Don Francisco fell off the saddle, hitting the rocky ground hard on his left side. He howled in pain when the bone in his upper arm snapped, fractured.

"Francisco! Are you all right?" asked Don Alejandro when he saw his friend crying out, unable to stand up, with his face on the dust.

"No! Arghhh! _Mierda! Joder!_"

He continued shouting, cursing and struggling until Sepúlveda and another two soldiers dismounted to help him up. None of the new recruits, who were closer, also holding the prisoner's reins, could bother to help him.

"His arm is broken. Badly," confirmed Sepúlveda, concerned.

"Get him up the saddle again," ordered the alcalde.

"I don't think he will be able to ride, alcalde. He is in no condition to…"

"Get him up!"

"Sorry, Don Francisco," said the soldier, walking the injured man back to his horse.

"Untie his hands at least first, for Christ sake!" Don Alejandro complained, furious.

Corporal Sepúlveda cut the rope to free his hands, and used his own belt to make a rudimentary sling to hold the arm bended. Don Francisco kept cursing and complaining in pain while he did that. Between the three soldiers, they managed to get him up the saddle again.

"Are you all right?" asked Sepúlveda nervously, looking up to the rider ashamed of the situation, while fitting Don Francisco's feet on the stirrups.

"No! Of course I am not!" barked Don Francisco, spilling some involuntary tears due to the intense, sharp pain he felt.

"Vámonos!" shouted the alcalde, setting out at a slow trot. The others followed him. Sepúlveda grabbed the reins of Don Francisco's horse.

"Give me that!" he ordered to the new recruit, snapping the reins off his hands. He mounted his horse and followed the group at a slow pace, walking instead of trotting to minimize his prisoner's discomfort. They were soon left behind. When the alcalde realized what was happening, he turned his horse around to reach them, looking very cross.

"Corporal! What are you doing? Keep up with the group!"

"This man is in no condition to travel any faster, alcalde." Sepúlveda swallowed hard when he saw the expression in the alcalde's eyes, amazed of his own bravery to stand up to him.

"Of course he is." Roberto suddenly grabbed Don Francisco by his injured arm, pressing hard on it. The old don howled again, surprised by this cruelty, and then fainted, unable to stand such extreme pain. Roberto passed a rope around him to hold him on the saddle, with his limp body leaning on the horse's neck. "Ride on."

Sepúlveda didn't move, still shocked by Roberto's actions.

"Go!" he slapped the horse's rump, and it trotted on to join the others. "I'll think on a suitable punishment for your insubordination later, corporal."

ZZZ

"Diego, you have to wake up. Don't leave me alone through this. Do you hear me?" Cristina was desperate, holding his hand, waiting for him to move, to do something to confirm he could hear her. But he didn't flinch. "Eagle Eye, do what you have to do, please. Whichever ritual is going to help him. Use the peyote, or any other drug you need. I don't care, as long as he wakes up."

"What about Alejandro?" asked the Indian, concerned.

"He is not here, is he? I am in charge now. I trust you. I know you can help him."

"Yes."

"I have to go to the pueblo now and talk some sense to the alcalde."

"Don't get too close to him. Don't trust him. Be careful."

"Yes, I will, don't worry. Take care of Diego, please. I'll be back soon."

ZZZ

"You are insane! Why would we want to kill alcalde De Soto? Or our neighbours? Can't you see these accusations don't make sense at all?!" shouted Don Alejandro, desperate, grabbing the cell bars with both hands after Pablo closed the door.

"Of course they do. Perfect sense," said Roberto, impassive. "De Soto knew you agreed to stay in Mexico as spies of the Spanish Crown. Otherwise, as a relative of the king, you would have returned to Spain. He blackmailed you, and you killed him before I arrived. In your own land, of all places," he laughed.

"That's ridiculous! You made that up."

"No. I found a document handwritten by De Soto about that issue. It was misplaced; that's why I didn't read it before."

As part of his repertoire of criminal skills, Roberto also had the rare ability to imitate handwriting to perfection, so he had no trouble to forge a document that looked, without a doubt, written by De Soto's hand.

"I can't believe that. That's a lie!" cried Don Alejandro, really furious now.

"We should have a fair trial! You cannot decide the fate of a man on your own. You are not a judge!" complained Don Francisco while nursing his broken arm, holding it as tight as he could against his body, so it would not dangle from his shoulder.

"Wrong again. Under the new government, and while the new Mexican Justice system gets organized and under way, the local authorities –and in this case, that's _me_, your alcalde– have the power to trial and administer justice as they see fair according to the importance of the crime committed. I guess you realize that murdering my predecessor, especially under the gruesome circumstances surrounding his death, carries and immediate, severe sentence: capital punishment. You'll hang at the gallows the day after tomorrow. Both of you." He turned around and walked to the door, laughing, and he added, without looking at them: "The only thing I need to decide now is who will go first."

ZZZZZ


	35. Chapter 35 - The Ritual

**Chapter 56 – The Ritual**

"What are we going to do? There is no Zorro this time to save us," said Don Alejandro when they were left alone in the cell for a moment while the new recruit went into the office. Worried about his son, he wondered if Diego would be awake by then. At least the fever was coming down when they left. But even if he was awake, he doubted he could count on him for a rescue mission.

"I don't know. Mierda. The pain doesn't let me think!" complained Don Francisco, holding his arm. He had been awake for a while now and he looked pale and clammy, with droplets of cold sweat on his forehead.

"You should be seen by doctor Hernández. He could fix the bones and splint the arm, or at least, give you something for the pain if the alcalde doesn't let him into the cell.

"Yes, the alcalde should let the doctor in! That bastard displaced the fragments. On purpose!"

Don Alejandro moved back to the cell bars and shouted: "Soldiers! We need the doctor here!"

Tomás came back slowly into the jail space, looking bored.

"The alcalde said the doctor is busy." He left his musket leaning against the wall and sat down on a chair to keep an eye on them.

"Really? I don't believe that. Don Francisco's arm is broken. He needs the doctor as soon as possible. And it is the alcalde's fault he fell off the horse on the first place!"

"I don't care. No doctor. So, shut up." The soldier reclined the chair against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to relax, ignoring Don Alejandro's desperate, angry ranting, and Don Francisco's occasional cursing.

ZZZ

"Before you go, help us move Diego to the tent," said the Indian.

Eagle Eye, Felipe and Cristina carried Diego to the shelter in the patio using a thick blanket as a stretcher. The tent was a conic structure, similar to a North American Indian tepee but not quite the same, with colourful paintings and symbols on the canvas.

"That looks pretty," said Cristina appreciating the beauty of the artistic design, although she didn't know the symbols' meaning.

They placed Diego inside, in the middle, still resting on the blanket. Eagle Eye retouched the canvas and repositioned a couple of poles on the side, securing it better. When he was satisfied with its arrangement, he placed several small pots with flickering candles on the space inside the tent, on the ground, forming a wide circle around Diego. He used one of the largest ones –a distinctive, white, thick candle– to light a stick of _Palo Santo_. The stick was on fire for a few seconds only, and then he licked his fingers to extinguish the flame by squeezing the burning edge quickly, with a sizzle. The sacred piece of wood continued to combust slowly, with a column of white, scented smoke spiralling up from the burning end. The Indian held the palo santo stick on his left hand and fanned a bald eagle wing feather over it, moving it slowly to spread the holy smoke all over the tent while singing a sacred chant with a monotonous, low tone voice.

When he had finished, he left the rest of the holy wood burning in a decorated dish, close to Diego's feet.

"What are you doing?" asked Cristina, intrigued.

"Cleansing."

"Cleansing what?"

"This space. Has to be cleaned of evil spirits and negative energy forces. Palo Santo cleanses; the Eagle is the messenger to the Great Spirit."

Cristina and Felipe looked at each other. The youngster shrugged his shoulders, with an incredulous expression on his face. Thanks to Diego and his teachings, he favoured more the no-nonsense, tangible scientific approach. But Cristina was more inclined to the arcane, mystical knowledge and nodded reprovingly at Felipe, keen to believe.

Eagle Eye produced a small bottle with palo santo oil, which he rubbed in Diego's skull at the base above his neck, and on his forehead. Then he placed a collar of jet black _azabache_ stones on his neck.

"Azabache protects and purifies. Remove bad energies." He then got a bag which contained the peyote buttons. "Diego ready to take Peyote now. You both have to leave. Will take a few hours to do spirit walk, and he has to be alone. Should wake up tomorrow knowing what he had forgotten."

"I hope you are right." She came into the circle of candles to hold Diego's hand. "Diego, you have to wake up, because I need you here. Are you listening? I'll see you tomorrow." She kissed his hand lovingly and stepped out of the circle again. "I have to go to the pueblo now to see the lawyer, and the alcalde."

"Take this." Eagle Eye took off his own collar of azabache stones and placed it over her head, on her neck.

"For protection? From the alcalde?" she asked. Eagle Eye nodded, serious. "Thank you. Take care of him. I'll be back soon." Cristina came out of the tent trying to keep an open, hopeful mind. Felipe followed her, still unconvinced this whole thing would not be a gigantic waste of time.

After they left, Eagle Eye got on with the task to pestle the peyote buttons in a stone mortar and mixed them with water to create a thin, liquid paste. Then, he fed it to Diego through the Joe Pye stem, slowly. It took him a while to do this, as he had to administer the peyote in small quantities to avoid making Diego sick. When he had finished, the Indian took the dish with the combusted palo santo and got out of the tent, closing the opening by overlapping the canvas. Then, he sat down on the ground guarding the entrance and he waited there, patiently as only an Indian could do, ready to help Diego if he struggled and needed help. The visions and revelations provided by peyote could be too strong sometimes, and some pilgrims had trouble while on their spiritual walk. He anticipated Diego's experience would be a rough one.

ZZZ

"The alcalde should not come into your house and arrest them both without any proof," said the lawyer, Luis Cebrián. Before coming into the alcalde's office, Cristina had paid a visit to their lawyer and had told him what had happened at the hacienda. "Are you sure he hasn't got any proof of anything?"

"He found some stones in the barn. He said the stones contained arsenic, and that Don Alejandro and my father used them to poison the water in Don Pedro's hacienda. But I suspect the alcalde placed the stones there himself. They are not ours."

"Hum. Why would he do that? Even if it is true that he planted the arsenic stones as evidences, that would be difficult for us to prove if the soldiers found them there."

"I am telling you: Don Alejandro and my father had nothing to do with the poisoning. The stones are not ours. We think Don Miguel is responsible; he is the one who bought the haciendas from Don Esteban, Don Manuel and Don Pedro, and he is probably behind the arsonist attacks to our haciendas. He also offered to buy them before the attacks. He has to be involved somehow!" She couldn't tell him the whole story about the arsenic in the water, and the map Diego had stolen from the alcalde's office as Zorro.

"And what about De Soto's murder, the main alleged crime?"

"Of course they didn't kill the alcalde! Why would they? The last time Don Alejandro saw him was a few hours before De Soto died, when he came to say goodbye as he was returning for Spain."

"But Don Alejandro saw him only a few hours before he died... And the body was found at the hacienda's land. Hum. I see why the alcalde may think they are suspects, but it is not enough to convict them." The lawyer looked lost in thought for a moment. "Very well. Let's pay the alcalde a visit, and then we can talk to your father."

ZZZ

The restless sleep and the nightmares ended when the chemicals contained in the peyote got absorbed from his gastric tract. Soon after, Diego relaxed. His bad dreams were transformed into a succession of weird, colourful ones, with dazzling, seemingly absurd situations that mixed with one another, overlapping, non-stop. These dreams overloaded his senses, like hallucinations.

_Toronado was playing with him, chasing Diego on a field of rich, green grass, which seemed too green to belong to California. That landscape looked more like the green and pleasant land called England. Diego looked around, interested. His father had told him they had been in England when he was a kid, but he didn't remember it. Large oaks, chestnut, ash, and other deciduous trees surrounded the field. The beautiful multi-coloured arrangement of the falling leaves told him it was autumn. Beyond the trees, in the distance, he could see the stony grey spike of a Parish Church, and gentle, green hills on the background. On the other side of the field, behind him, a handful of huge granite stones were scattered over the green grass, forming a semicircle, and a flock of sheep was lazily grazing among them. The black stallion galloped back and forth along the field, looking happy to walk on the soft grass, in contrast with the harder, rocky soil of Los Angeles._

_Suddenly, the horse shrank to a miniature size, the size of a dog, and galloped around his master out of control, barking, making him dizzy. When Diego touched him Toronado turned purple, and a single, pearly-silver horn grew slowly on its forehead inch by inch, with a screeching sound. Diego stepped back, dazed, and the tiny black horse now turned purple unicorn farted, laughing like a child, with a glittery, perfect rainbow coming out of his rear end. Diego laughed as well. Then he looked at his clothes. He was wearing Zorro's black clothes. He touched his black shirt and it immediately turned bright orange, with a luminous yellow hue extending out of him, as if he was a mini-sun radiating light. He was mesmerized by the bright colours around him, and how everything he could see was now distorted and wavy, as if covered by running water. He kept laughing for no specific reason, and then laughed harder when all the things surrounding him turned white, with their colours washed away by that same running, wavy water that seemed to cover them, mixing in a multi-coloured puddle which eventually disappeared through a small hole on the ground that acted like a huge sink. Everything turned white except Toronado and himself, and they both stood out as bright coloured spots on an empty, white landscape. Even the sky was white, and there was no horizon, as the sky and the ground merged on the same bright whiteness._

Meanwhile, outside the tent, Eagle Eye relaxed a little when he heard Diego laughing. Peyote was working its magic, and at the moment _Mescalito _was gentle with Diego. He hoped the laugh would last; however, it was only the initial stage of the ritual, and it was unlikely all the dreams would be pleasant ones.

ZZZ

"Alcalde, you cannot prevent Doña Cristina from visiting her father. She has the right to talk to him."

"No, she hasn't. She hasn't got any rights. The prisoners may have the right to talk to a lawyer, like you, but she has no rights to demand anything." Roberto was annoyed by the lawyer's presence in his office, but he tried to keep a neutral, affable tone. He wanted a quick trial, presided by himself, with a quick resolution on a death sentence. _I have no time to waste on trials with lawyers! _

"As their lawyer I want to talk to them, then."

"Very well. My assistant will guide you to the cell. Armando, take señor Cebrián to see the prisoners."

After they left, Roberto was free to talk to Cristina. He looked at her lean, slender body, appreciating every subtle and not so subtle curve with desire. She was stunning. What a waste of a woman, with a husband like Diego by her side.

"Do you realize your father is going to hang from the noose pretty soon, don't you?"

She looked at him, fuming.

"Don't be so sure. They are innocent, and señor Cebrián is a very good lawyer."

Roberto laughed and stood up to approach Cristina, coming too close for comfort. She reached for the largest azabache stone in her collar and twisted it between her fingers, nervously.

"Maybe we could come to an agreement that could work in your father's favour," he said in a seductive tone, breathing out close to her ear.

"What are you talking about? What kind of agreement?" asked Cristina moving slowly away from him, although she didn't need to ask; she could see the lust in Roberto's eyes so clearly.

"You are a beautiful woman, with a fire burning inside. Has that fire been quenched by your husband lately?"

She could not believe it. _As a matter of fact it has been quenched, you filthy degenerate._ She shook her head slowly.

"I could help you. I know exactly what you need, and I can offer you some, delivered to a high standard." His lascivious smile made her heave in disgust. She rejected the offer with all the disdain she could influx to her words.

"I think I'll decline your dirty proposition. My husband may be physically and mentally impaired, but you, slimy slug, I am sure you are only half the man he is right now."

He laughed heartedly, amused by her words and tone, and came back to sat at his desk, still chuckling.

"Feisty! Even better. I'll enjoy it even more when you crawl to my bed begging me not to kill your father. I'll give you one day to think about it. He'll be the first one at the gallows otherwise."

At that moment, the lawyer came back into the office, alarmed by Don Francisco's condition.

"Don Francisco has a broken arm! He needs a doctor immediately. You cannot withhold medical attention to the prisoners!"

"I am not withholding anything. Doctor Hernández is out of town attending an emergency. I'll let him know he is required here as soon as he returns," said Roberto, with a nice, concerned, supposedly helpful tone. Initially, he had been reluctant to provide care for Don Francisco, and then he was delighted when he had found out the doctor wasn't available, as it was a fantastic excuse to keep that arrogant, rebellious man suffering in the meantime.

"How did he fracture his arm? What happened? How bad is it?" asked Cristina, worried.

"He fell of the horse on the way here. Actually, I think he was trying to escape."

"That's a lie. He is innocent; he wouldn't do that!" cried Cristina. Her narrowed, green eyes were locked on the alcalde's sinister, black ones. Her eyes spat hatred; his scorned her. "You tied their hands behind. Sure they could not keep their balance all right; especially my father with his chronic lameness."

"No. I am afraid he tried to escape," Roberto insisted, calm.

"You have the same proof of that as their motives to kill De Soto: none!"

"No, you are mistaken, señora de la Vega. Actually, your lawyer would like to see the document I found misplaced, or should I say purposely hidden by your former alcalde, in a pile of old paperwork." He turned to open the door of the safe behind him, with his body obscuring their view of the dial so they could not see the combination. He produced a document signed by Ignacio de Soto warning his successor that in the event of his death in tragic circumstances he should consider Don Alejandro and Don Francisco as suspects, as he had found out they had remained in California as spies of the Spanish Crown and he feared for his life. Cristina and the lawyer read the document. Luis Cebrián looked concerned when he had finished, with a wrinkled forehead.

"I think he was blackmailing them and he wrote this as a safeguard," said the alcalde, taking the document off the lawyer's hands.

"That's the most outrageous bullshit I have ever heard!" cried Cristina in the most unladylike manner. "Excuse my language, but… _concerned about_ _his safety_? For heaven's sake! De Soto was a royalist; if that was true and they were spies of the Spanish Crown he should have cooperated with them happily, as they would have been on the same team!"

"That would make sense if your former alcalde was a man of honour; but I am afraid that, for what I heard about him, he was a devious individual that would have resorted to blackmailing if he had had the chance. I am sure you know this, as well as I do."

_"More than you could ever imagine,"_ she thought, remembering how De Soto had blackmailed Diego to do his job as Zorro. "That must be a forgery. Let me see other documents signed by De Soto, to compare."

"Very well." Roberto produced a few real ones, and he lined them up on the desk beside the forged paper. They all looked very similar: the handwriting, the ink and the paper were the same. She looked at the lawyer, and was disheartened by his sorry expression and the way he shook his head slowly.

_"Holy crap,"_ she thought. _"Diego, please, wake up and sort this mess out!"_

ZZZ

_Miniature Toronado invited Diego to ride on._

_ "I can't! You are too small now, boy. I'd drag my feet on the ground," he laughed._

_ Toronado barked insistently, pushing Diego's legs from behind with his pearly horn. When Diego spread his legs apart to avoid being rammed and gored by that little, stubborn creature, Toronado ran quickly under him and then jumped and pushed up, lifting his master off the white ground._

_ "You can fly now! Great. Where are we going?" Diego asked, delighted._

_ Toronado kept flying, effortlessly, gliding through the air without wings. The white, empty landscape turned blue, like the ocean, and big waves appeared on its surface. Toronado flew over the moving waters at great speed, while he kept getting higher and higher. Eventually, they got so high the land they could occasionally see below them looked really small, far away, surrounded by that deep, blue water. Diego had never seen anything like it; it was like looking at a map from above, just like God would see his creation. When they got close to the coast again a violent gust of wind came out of nowhere and destabilized the flying horse. Diego fell off the side, and plummeted to the ground below him at frightening speed, crying and waving his arms and legs wildly. _

Eagle Eye knew the laughter could not last long. Diego was crying out now as if someone was skinning him alive, in total panic. He lifted the canvas door to have a look inside. Diego was screaming, agitated, but he was still lying on the blanket and had not disturbed the candles. Satisfied, he let go of the canvas and sat down again. The screams continued for a few more seconds, and then the shelter felt silent.

ZZZ

"And what about that Roberto Malpartida? Sergeant Mendoza was with alcalde De Soto when he died, and he told him that man had stabbed him," said Cristina. "Otherwise, he would have accused my father, or Don Alejandro."

"I don't know about that. And, I am not very sure the sergeant was a reliable witness, or even if De Soto was in his right mind at the time of his dreadful death when he mentioned that name."

"I would like to see Sergeant Mendoza. Now," said the lawyer.

"He is at the infirmary, recovering from a head injury. He fell of his horse yesterday while on patrol. I don't think he is in the right condition to give any testimony as a witness yet, at this stage."

_How convenient for you. I wonder how he fell off the horse_, thought Cristina.

"It doesn't matter. We still want to see him," she demanded.

"_We_?" laughed the alcalde. "I may let your lawyer talk to the sergeant, but what makes you think you are going to be allowed in there, señora de la Vega?"

Luis Cebrián held her hand, tapping it gently, and he moved slightly forward in front of her. She looked furious and about to jump on the alcalde's throat.

"It doesn't matter, Doña Cristina. You stay here, and I'll talk to the sergeant. Alcalde, you cannot prevent me from talking to the main witness in this case."

"As you wish. Armando, take señor Cebrián to the infirmary, and I'll keep company to Doña Cristina in the meantime."

"_Over my dead body_," she thought, heading for the front door when the lawyer went through the back one.

ZZZ

_While falling, Diego saw himself as a meteorite coming to Earth from space. He looked like a flash of bright, orange light across the clear, blue sky. When he crashed on the ground everything went dark and silent, with the exact same feeling he had when someone had fractured his skull, although he wasn't sure when that had happened, or why. _

_Next thing, he saw two men arguing on a stage. He recognized the place. It was the old theatre at the University, in Madrid. They wore old fashion brown and cream robes, and had obviously fake, ill-fitting moustaches and long beards, and they talked in a low voice. Diego thought that tone of voice was odd, because as actors they should be projecting their voices loudly for the audience, as his drama teacher had told him before he should do. He recognized them on their disguises: one was the man with the glowing white hair, the former alcalde, although this time his hair was light brown, and it didn't glow that much; and the other one was the new alcalde, the handsome one with the black eyes. Diego looked around him. He was sitting in a chair close to the stage, but he was alone. Nobody else was looking, and nobody else was close to the actors. His clothes were still bright orange and luminous, but they didn't pay attention to him, as if he wasn't there. Or maybe they could not see him._

"I have ambitions, Roberto," said the man with the previously glowing, white hair. "I'll graduate this year with honours, and then, the world is my oyster. I am going places, and I am not going to jeopardize a bright future to follow you and your pointless crusade against the monarchy. The system is wrong, I know, but it is what it is; you have to learn to play it to your convenience, as we all do. What you are proposing is futile, and dangerous."

"Are you with me, or are you against me?"

De Soto swallowed, nervous. He was afraid of the other man. "Neither."

"Don't mess up with me, Ignacio. You have to position yourself in this. No middle ground."

"I don't have to do anything, so, leave me alone. I could have you arrested right now." Despite his fear, the former alcalde didn't like to be bossed around, and he replied in a harsh tone, trying to be threatening. But, he was a lousy actor.

"I dare you," laughed the other man. "You lack the _cojones_ to do that."

"Maybe, or maybe not. But, be careful here; you are playing with fire. And _Jesus_ can wake up any moment now, and you know his father is a relative of the king." He pointed at a form behind them on the stage.

_Diego recognized the young man lying on the floor as himself. He had not realized that body was there before. Then he remembered how he had dropped unconscious when a piece of the stage machinery had fallen on his head while rehearsing. Suddenly, the little, purple unicorn came on the stage and rammed the former alcalde with his pearly horn; the man disappeared, evaporating into a white, glowing cloud of dust. Right afterwards, he kicked the new alcalde with both hind quarters, and that man flew away through the roof, out of the theatre, leaving a trail of dark, black dust behind him all along the way._

_Then, the little unicorn laughed heartedly and urged Diego to ride on again._

ZZZ

While the lawyer talked to the sergeant Cristina went to the tavern to wait until the doctor came back to the pueblo. She didn't want to stay in the office alone with the alcalde, not even for a second. She felt safer at the tavern, surrounded by other people.

When Victoria saw her, she approached her quickly.

"Cristina, what's going on? Why have Don Alejandro and you father been taken to jail? What have they done?"

"Nothing. Can I talk to you in private?" she asked, lowering her tone.

"Yes, of course. Come to the kitchen. I am on my own this evening. I sent Pilar home."

Cristina followed her, wondering how to warn her about the alcalde. She was in love with him, so it was going to be a difficult task to convince her he was a rotten apple.

"So, what happened?" Victoria asked after she closed the curtains behind Cristina.

"The alcalde accused them of murdering Ignacio de Soto, and also of murdering Don Pedro and her daughter."

"What? That is absurd. It doesn't make sense at all."

"Victoria, I know you are in love with Gabriel Salamanca. I should be happy that you are finally focusing in another love interest rather than on my husband, but I have to warn you. I don't know how to say this, as you probably won't believe me: the alcalde is a bad person. He is taking advantage of you, and has a hidden agenda. I don't know what he is up to, but he has a plan. A sinister one, I believe."

"What are you talking about? How can you be so mean? You can't stand the fact that I am happy, don't you? You are jealous of me because you are so miserable now with Diego," Victoria spat, really cross.

"Not at all. Listen, despite our differences, I don't want anything bad happening to you. He is an evil force. Eagle Eye told me that."

"Eagle Eye? The Indian? Is he in Los Angeles? How does he know anything about the alcalde?"

"Eagle Eye came to help Diego, to make him remember. He said the alcalde is a bad person."

"Nonsense. He is the nicest man I know. Certainly much nicer than the current Diego."

"Look, only a few minutes ago the alcalde made me a filthy proposition: if I sleep with him, he'll let my father walk away free. Do you think he would do that if he was in love with you? Do you think that is an honourable behaviour?"

"You are lying. You are horrible. Get out of here!"

"All right, I am going," said Cristina, giving up. "But stay away from him, please."

"Get out!" Victoria followed her to the entrance door, to make sure Cristina walked out of the building.

Cristina would have preferred staying in the tavern rather than waiting outside. She felt too vulnerable there, in her pretty dress. If she had her sword and the Italian's clothes on, it would be another matter. In the end, she got on her horse and returned to the hacienda. It was pointless to wait for the doctor, as she doubted the alcalde would let her see her father. The lawyer would let him know the situation and he could treat the fracture. She better used the time to go back and check on Diego instead.

ZZZZZ

**A.N - This chapter was going to be ridiculously long, so I had to split it. I hope it makes some sense this way, especially the dream sequence. **


	36. Chapter 36 - Possessed

**Chapter 57 – Betrayed**

"That's what he said: _Roberto Malpartida_. Alcalde De Soto knew that man, and he said Don Diego de la Vega knew him as well." Mendoza had been resting in bed all day and he was feeling much better, keen to talk to the lawyer as he was getting bored and lonely at the infirmary. With his laziness, he had missed all the events of the day. "But he died before he could tell me more about that man or his location. How unfortunate Don Diego had that accident and now he can't remember anything to tell us who that man is and where to find him."

"Oh, yes, how unfortunate…" Roberto agreed with a sympathetic tone. After Cristina ran out of the office he had followed the lawyer to visit the sergeant, worried he might say something inconvenient. _I am tired of this. It has been quite enjoyable to watch that pompous twat struggling, but I think I should do the charitable thing and put Diego out of his misery, as I would do with an injured horse. After all, he may recover his memory at some point and remember me. The risk is too high to ignore it. And, when he is gone for good that will make that haughty woman a fatherless, defenceless widow, and she may reconsider her arrogant attitude. _

"Why are you asking me about this now, señor Cebrián?"

"Because alcalde Salamanca here thinks Don Alejandro de la Vega and Don Francisco Blasco are the murderers. They are in jail. He thinks they killed alcalde De Soto."

The sergeant was speechless, looking at the alcalde with his jaw dropped.

"That's nonsense. Why would they kill him? It can't be; De Soto said that name clearly. He didn't mention them at all."

"Maybe that man was an assassin they hired to do it. After all, Don Diego knew that man. But I am sure the De la Vegas were behind the murder," said Roberto quickly. _Maybe I should prosecute Diego as well. Killing him legally will make it easier for me._

"But… but…"

Roberto tapped Mendoza's hand gently, and talked to him as if he was a small child.

"Rest now, sergeant. You suffered a serious blow and you are understandably confused. You have a concussion. Rest and hopefully your mind will get clearer soon."

"But I don't feel confused… I only… I…"

Roberto rolled his eyes and sighed deeply, looking at the lawyer. "Let's go. Sergeant Mendoza is not a reliable witness right now, and he needs to rest."

ZZZ

_The purple Unicorn took Diego flying again across the ocean. This time they didn't get so high, and instead of dropping him out, Toronado landed softly on an empty cemetery. Diego stood up and read the name on the closest gravestone. It was his mother's name. All of a sudden he was surrounded by people in mourning clothes. His father was there, and he recognized himself as a young teenager, by his side. They both cried. Diego felt an overwhelming wave of sadness with all the grief he had felt that day, the saddest day of his life. _

Eagle Eye checked on Diego one more time. He was sobbing now, affected by some intense sorrow. But he was quietly doing so, still not disturbing the candles, so the Indian came out of the tent again, and kept waiting by the entrance.

Soon after, Cristina returned to the hacienda. It was late in the evening, and it was already quite dark.

"How is he? What's happening? Is he awake yet?" she asked, anxious, when she stepped into the patio.

"He'll wake up tomorrow. Long night of spiritual walk ahead."

"Can I see him?"

"Better don't disturb. He is crying now."

"Crying? Why?"

"Don't know. Some sad, bad memory. He needs to remember everything. Good and bad," said the Indian, serious.

"You were right about the alcalde. As an evil spirit, I mean. I am really worried now. And my father fell off his horse because of him and he broke his arm. He needs the doctor, but I don't know where he is."

"Doctor here."

Cristina looked around. "Here?" She couldn't see him. "Is he at the hacienda?"

Eagle Eye shook his head, smiling. "He is coming."

"How do you know he is coming? Can you sense that as well?"

The Indian laughed briefly. "No. No need to sense him. Can see him." He pointed to the road, into the darkness, through an arch in the patio's wall. Cristina couldn't see anybody for a while. Then, she spotted a rider coming out of the shadows, approaching the hacienda slowly at a gentle trot, and then she could hear the sound of the horse's hooves hitting the ground when he was closer. She shook her head, amazed. "How on Earth can you do that? You really are Eagle Eye, aren't you?" She walked to the entrance to greet the doctor.

"Good evening. How is Diego?" asked the doctor when he arrived at the main entrance, dismounting his horse slowly. "Is he awake?"

"No. But the fever is down. And Eagle Eye gave him the peyote to help him remember. He is in the tent in the patio."

"Did you authorize that?" the doctor asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, after the alcalde took my father and Don Alejandro to jail."

"What? Why did he do that? What happened?"

"He accused them of murdering alcalde De Soto. I have been looking for you, but you were away on a visit and I didn't know where. My father fell of his horse on the way to the pueblo, when he had his hands bonded at his back, and he broke his arm badly. He needs your help."

"I am sorry you could not find me. I left the house in a hurry to attend an emergency; for once, I forgot to leave a note with my whereabouts. I should have, but I am so tired today," the doctor apologized while walking slowly into the house, dragging his feet.

Cristina looked at the doctor as she has never done before, from a new perspective. What she saw was an old, tired man, who should not be busy twenty-four hours a day every day of the week riding out on demand, even in the middle of the night, in all weathers. They were so used to rely on him to take care of every ailment and sickness in the pueblo at all times, nobody had ever thought the good doctor would need a break from time to time to take care of himself as well.

"I am sorry, Doctor Hernández. You look exhausted and worn-out, but my father really needs your help tonight. He is in a lot of pain; I don't think he can wait until the morning."

"Of course, don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can. Just let me have a little break here first. I am not a young, active man anymore, you know?" They reached the patio, and the doctor saluted the Indian. Then he turned to face Cristina again. "Can I have a drink, please, while I see Diego?"

"Yes, of course. And please, come in and have dinner before you go back to the pueblo. Are you having dinner with us as well, Eagle Eye?"

"No. Have to stay here," said the Indian shaking his head. He stopped the doctor when he tried to open the door to the tent, holding his forearm. "Diego is fine. You should not disturb his spiritual walk." Doctor Hernández looked at him, incredulous and quite annoyed.

"I came all the way here just to see him. He is my patient," he complained, shaking off the Indian's hand, but Eagle Eye didn't back off, looking firm in his conviction Diego should not be disturbed by external interaction while on the tent. To avoid a pointless confrontation, Cristina took gently the doctor's other arm to take him away from the tent.

"Come on, doctor. Let's find out what delicious dinner María has prepared tonight, so you didn't waste your time coming here. I'll bring you something as well, Eagle Eye."

ZZZ

_At the cemetery, Diego walked away from the others because he needed to be alone, but someone followed his trail of orange glow under the pine trees._

_ "I am so sorry, Diego. I know what it is like to lose a mother, and the empty space it leaves in your heart. I can't say you'll feel better soon, because you won't. But you'll learn to live with it, as I did."_

_ He turned to face that sweet girl, a dark-haired little beauty a few years younger than teenage Diego, but already wiser. He forced a smile on his sad face. _

"_Thank you, Victoria."_

_She rose on her tiptoes to hug him and he collapsed in her arms, sobbing. She soothed him with her kind words, whispering sounds that worked like magic spells to calm him down. Being in her arms was so comforting; almost so much as being in his mother's arms, as if he belonged there. Like home._

_He broke the embrace with his eyes closed, stepping back. When he opened them again they were at the tavern, not at the cemetery. The young girl had grown up, transforming into a beautiful young woman; a woman who was looking at him with wide-opened eyes, pleased to see him but mesmerized by his presence at the same time._

_He took her hand and planted a delicate kiss at the back, caressing it sensually with his lips while he looked at her with such intensity she looked unsettled and nervous. In the blink of an eye their surroundings changed again, and they were at the hacienda's yard, at twilight. Diego's hand caressed her face gently. His sleeve was black again instead of orange, and he realized he was dressed as Zorro. _

"_I've been thinking…" he heard himself saying. "You should have a husband. Someone like… Diego, perhaps." She looked confused and disappointed by his words, but still rested her face on his hand, not breaking contact._

"_Like Diego? I thought… I thought we shared certain feelings…"_

"_We do. More than you'll ever know," his own, distant, sad voice said. A few seconds later Victoria impulsively jumped into his arms to kiss him, and Diego was overwhelmed by the intense feeling of pure love he felt right then. He embraced her, responding to the kiss eagerly, but the intimate contact didn't last long as they were interrupted._

"_Diego!" called Toronado, sounding exactly like Don Alejandro calling for his son. He came into the yard and they broke the embrace quickly, flustered. "Diegoooooo!" cried Toronado again, impatient. _

"_I must go. I must go," Diego apologized, reluctantly leaving Victoria to ride on the little, purple unicorn. They flew over the hacienda, and Toronado hovered over it like a hawk for a few seconds so Diego could see Victoria waving at them from the garden, smiling happily while she blew him a kiss. _

ZZZ

"I am sorry, Don Francisco. This is going to hurt."

"I know, so hurry up," he demanded, tensing up his whole body while looking away to the window.

"I have to pull and push hard to reposition the fragments to get a good alignment before I can splint the arm. And you have to be as still as possible, and relaxed," said doctor Hernández, tapping gently his patient's forearm. He handed out a brown glass bottle. "Drink this. It is strong laudanum tonic mixed with _marijuana_ to help relax the muscles. As I said, if you are tense it will be more difficult." Don Francisco grabbed the bottle and avidly took several long sips, as he was so keen to ease the pain, but the doctor stopped him. "That's enough," he said, taking the bottle away.

Don Francisco groaned in protest, and nodded towards the alcalde, who was waiting with a couple of soldiers outside the cell, watching the scene.

"That bastard! It is his fault I fell off the horse. And then, el _hijoputa_ grabbed my arm and moved the bones. I am sure they are worse now than before!"

"Who did what? The alcalde?" asked Don Alejandro. Then he looked in his direction, angrily. "What did you do?"

"I was merely trying to help," said Roberto with his nicest, most sincere _insincere_ tone.

"_Y una mierda!" _shouted Don Francisco. "He pressed hard on the fracture site in my upper arm on purpose. Why do you think I blacked out?"

"I had no idea that had happened!" Don Alejandro moved closer to the doctor and his friend, lowering his voice to a whisper, so much that only they could hear him. "I told you from the start I didn't like him. He pretends to be nice, but he is a bad person. Eagle Eye said he could sense an evil man around. I am sure he meant the alcalde. And that Indian knows people." He looked around over their heads and then lowered his voice even more. "He only needed a couple of hours with Diego to realize who he is. He is very perceptive."

"Don Alejandro, stop whispering. Get away from them," ordered Roberto.

"I have to agree with you in this, Alejandro. I wasn't expecting the alcalde to do that at all, to be that cruel. We have been targeted, obviously," Don Francisco whispered back.

Roberto signalled to Tomás. He came into the cell with his musket in hand.

"And that absurd story about the arsenic stones… He must be in league with Don Miguel then. And the map that…" Don Alejandro's whispering was interrupted when Tomás charged with his musket, pushing the old don's chest with it, backing him up to the other side of the cell roughly.

"Shut up!" barked the soldier.

"Yes, Don Alejandro, keep your mouth closed or I'll move you to another cell, away from your friend. And I think he would appreciate your help in a moment. Doctor, hurry up. Fix that arm now!" Roberto ordered.

"I am waiting for the analgesic I gave him to…"

"Now! Or I'll escort you out without treating him. Your choice."

"Sorry, Don Francisco. Are you ready?" The old don nodded, uncertain. "Hold on."

ZZZ

In the night, Don Francisco's screams and curses could be heard all over the plaza, even from the tavern. Some patrons, including a couple of dons, were still in it talking about the arrest and how outrageous it was to have two pillars of the community in jail accused of murder. When they heard the cries, Victoria and some of the late customers walked quickly to the door.

"Are they torturing them?" asked Victoria, horrified, looking across the plaza to the jail, where the screams came from.

"It looks like it. We can't allow that," said one of the dons. "Come on! We have to stop this!"

The small group of concerned citizens walked to the alcalde's office, where they banged insistently at the door.

"Alcalde! What are you doing to your prisoners?!"

After a little while, Armando opened the door and the angry party came inside.

"What can I do for you?" Roberto asked from his desk, with his usual charming attitude.

"What's happening back there? Who is crying out? Are you torturing Don Alejandro and Don Francisco for a confession?" asked Don Mateo.

"Is that what you think? Oh, no, not at all, don't worry," said Roberto with an apologetic smile. "Unfortunately, Don Francisco fell off his horse on the way here and broke his left arm. Doctor Hernández is fixing it right now; it is a painful procedure, as you may imagine. But it must be over now." The screaming had stopped.

"Can I see them?" asked Victoria, shy, from the back of the group.

"No, señora, I am afraid it is late and visiting hours are over. Their lawyer talked to them earlier. There will be a fair trial tomorrow, which you can all attend. Now, if you excuse me, I have a lot of work to do to prepare for the trial. Goodnight," he said, dismissing them quickly at the door. He sent a special warm smile to Victoria, and when nobody was watching, a quick wink. "_I'll see you tomorrow_," his lips said in a silent whisper.

ZZZ

That night, Victoria could not sleep. She was worried about her friends, but mainly she was mulling over Cristina's warning. She wanted to believe that charming Gabriel was the perfect gentleman, but maybe her nemesis was right. There was something about him she didn't like. Despite the intense physical attraction she felt for him, she also had a primal feeling of… what was it? _Fear?_ She wasn't sure, but it bothered her. On paper, the alcalde was the perfect choice for her, but she was having second thoughts now. She decided she would resist his advances the next day, and give herself some time to think. Besides, Gabriel thought Don Alejandro had something to do with De Soto's murder. It was unconceivable. She could talk to him the next day and make him recognize his mistake.

ZZZ

Diego kept dreaming all night with colourful, odd dreams about every aspect of his life, remembering nearly everything he had forgotten. _Mescalito_, under the form of a purple Toronado, had taken Diego on a chaotic journey jumping back and forth in time, not following a chronological, accurate order in the sequence of dreams. It was a visual mess, open to interpretation for Diego.

Eagle Eye kept guard by the tent all night. During his spiritual journey, Diego would alternate yelling, laughing, crying, and all the array of possible emotions, leaving Eagle Eye to wonder what could be all that about each time. Several times he had to intervene, when Diego was physically fighting invisible enemies while on a trance, struggling on his own with the vivid hallucinations. In the end, the Indian had to remove the candles to avoid a real danger if Diego would get his clothes and the whole canvas on fire with such a frantic activity in the small space inside the tent, and left Diego in total darkness.

ZZZ

In the early morning, Roberto took a small group of soldiers back to the hacienda de la Vega. He had decided to arrest Diego as well and trial the three men at the same time, which would be much easier for him, and order their execution the next day. He didn't want any interference in his plans, and the only one that could spoil it would be that darn Zorro, who had run out with the map. The outlaw had not been lured by the pardon he had granted, but he doubted it would be the case as he was supposed to be an intelligent man. That pardon was for show, for the gallery, as proof of his benevolence with the pueblo, and it would be obvious for Zorro he had no intention to follow through.

When they arrived at the hacienda María the housekeeper greeted them at the door.

"I need to see Don Diego de la Vega," demanded the alcalde.

"_El señor_ is sick again. He is in no condition to see you now, alcalde," said María, trying to be firm, standing in the middle of the door obstructing the way in.

"Of course he is. I am here to arrest him."

"No, you can't come in." Roberto pushed her gently but firmly aside, and walked inside. María followed him all the way to Diego's room, distressed. "_Señora! Señora!_" she cried along the way. Alarmed by the screams, Cristina came quickly inside, from the patio, and followed the soldiers down the corridor.

"Alcalde! What are you doing here?"

"I am here to arrest your husband. Where is he?"

"He is sick. You can't see him."

"He was sick yesterday, in his bed, but he is not here now. Tell me where he is, because I don't believe you."

"He is outside. Why do you want to arrest him?"

"He is an accomplice in the murder of Ignacio de Soto."

"Oh, please! Can you be even more ridiculous of what you already are?!"

"Señora de la Vega, I am serious. Take me to your husband or I will arrest you as well."

Fuming, she led them to the patio. "There he is. I am telling you, he is really sick now." At that point, Diego was experiencing one of his vivid, frightening dreams, re-enacting a fight of some sort. The noise he made gave her an idea. "He is possessed by the devil." She lowered her head and made the sign of the cross on herself as a pious woman, and then praised the Lord, looking up to the sky. "Eagle Eye is trying to help him, but we think we are losing the battle."

"_Possessed_?" asked Roberto, hesitating for a moment. During his pirate life in the Caribbean he had seen voodoo rituals and people seemingly possessed by the devil, and he believed it was possible. He approached the tent but the Indian got on the way.

"You can't come in."

"Of course I can." He signalled to Pablo, who charged with his musket, hitting the Indian's stomach with the butt. When the Indian leaned forward in pain, he hit him again, with a blow to the back of his head. Roberto pushed the falling body away from the door and entered the tent. What he saw was enough to convince him Diego was actually possessed. He was struggling on the floor, rolling and shouting, hitting the air. His eyes were open, but not focusing on his surroundings, lost in space, and his face was distorted in a grimace. Roberto kicked him, twice, but Diego didn't react to this, and carried on with his fight against an invisible enemy, grunting. He turned to a side and stretched his arm, trying to grab something, and then he cried out, howling. With the agonizing cry, Roberto got goose bumps. He had enough.

"I see what you mean," he said, coming out of the tent quickly. "I am not taking him to stand trial in his condition, but if he is found guilty he will face execution, the same as your father and his father. Actually, it may be the best thing for him, under the circumstances. By the way, did you think about it?" He didn't specified about what, but it wasn't necessary.

"Go away!" she shouted, pointing to the door.

"The trial will take place at noon. You are all very welcomed to attend it. It could be the last time you see your father alive. Good morning, señora. Adiós."

Cristina watched the soldiers leave while tending for Eagle Eye, helped by Felipe. _Please, Diego, stop fooling around and wake up!_

ZZZ

It was a nice, warm, sunny morning. Roberto decided to hold the public trial outside, in the plaza, for everybody to see. He was anticipating opposition from the citizens, as the two dons were appreciated in the community, but he hoped he could convince them with the evidences against the two friends. And, being outside, he hoped he could thwart any rescue attempts by Zorro. He had instructed the soldiers to be extra vigilant, and they all had their muskets loaded and ready, spread all over the plaza to contain angry citizens and to watch out for Zorro. All except Mendoza, who still was at the infirmary. To avoid his presence at the trial, Roberto had ordered his men to neutralize him again. An hour before the start of the trial, Tomás had approached the sergeant from behind and had delivered another hard blow to his head. He had not regained consciousness yet, but the plan was to tell the confused soldier he had fainted and hit his head for the second time, and that he should stay in bed longer.

Armando took on the role of _fiscal _or public prosecutor for the accusation, as Roberto could not be the judge and the prosecutor at the same time if he wanted the trial to have any credibility on fairness. A large table had been taken outside and he sat by it, with the two defendants sitting in chairs to one side, chained and guarded by soldiers. Don Francisco had his fractured arm supported and splinted on a tight wooden structure. After a quiet night passed under the sedating effects of the laudanum mixture he was in pain again, looking sick.

After an hour and a half, when all the evidences had been presented and examined, all the testimonies heard, and the lawyer was struggling to prove the innocence of his clients, Cristina approached the desk and asked permission to speak, in a desperate attempt.

"Zorro gave me this," said Cristina, holding the map, talking to the public. "He took it from the alcalde's office only two days ago." She extended it open so everyone could see it. "It is a map of Los Angeles. It shows several properties marked in red, and some of them have been acquired by Don Miguel. Don Alejandro and my father's properties are marked with a large red cross: here, and here. Why is that, alcalde?"

Don Miguel was at the plaza, among the public. He fidgeted, nervous, looking at his brother with worry.

"I don't know. That map is not mine, and nobody took it from my office." He looked at Cristina wondering how she had got that map. Did Zorro really give it to her, instead of giving it to the lawyer? Better still, why wasn't he at the plaza then presenting the map himself? It didn't make sense. Unless… could Diego really be Zorro? And now for a twist of Destiny he had been possessed and was at home unable to show up? No, that was too much.

"You are lying! Zorro did!" cried Cristina.

"Señora de la Vega, I saw Zorro in my office two days ago, yes, but he didn't steal anything from me. Why would he? I've granted him a pardon for his alleged crimes, which, by the way, he hasn't accepted yet. If he really took that map from my office, why is he not here today riding his famous black stallion, seeking justice if this whole procedure was unfair?" He looked around, hoping this would not be the worse time to bluff. But there was no trace of the masked man. " I'll tell you why: because this is a fair trial, and there is no need for that. If these men are found guilty of murdering alcalde De Soto and poisoning their neighbours they will hang tomorrow; if they are innocent, they will walk free. And Zorro knows that; that's why he is not here."

A rumour of approval spread at the plaza. Most people were buying the alcalde's story about the King of Spain secret agents, as they had been wondering why Don Alejandro, a relative of the king, had stayed in California under Mexican government. And the extreme hatred Don Francisco seemed to feel for the Spanish King was outrageously excessive, so it could be a cover. Under those circumstances, the accusation the De la Vegas and their friend had murdered alcalde De Soto made some sense, after all.

"_No, bastard. Zorro is not here because he is trying to remember his past, and who the killer is. Hopefully, he will do that soon and kick your arse," _thought Cristina.

"I think this map belongs to your husband, and this forgery is your feeble attempt to defend the accused men. Maybe I should prosecute you as well for perverting the course of Justice."

Cristina blushed red, enraged. People in the crowd booed.

"However, as I am a benevolent person, and I won't do that. You are the mother of an innocent small child that should not be punished with the loss of both her reckless parents and grandparents."

"_Both? What_?" thought Cristina. Roberto stood up, solemn, and announced his verdict.

"By the power vested on me by the Government of Mexico, I declare the defendants here present, Don Alejandro de la Vega and Don Francisco Blasco, as well as Don Diego de la Vega, who regrettably could not be here today due to severe health issues…" He paused for a moment, for effect. "…_guilty_ of all charges. They will be hanged by the neck until their death at noon, tomorrow."

"That's preposterous! We are innocent!" Don Alejandro's voice was lost in the loud clamour that spread all over the plaza. The soldiers dragged the accused men back to jail quickly, and Roberto disappeared from view into his office to avoid any confrontations with the upset mob. Doña María Luisa was in shock, and Felipe tried to comfort her, hugging her tightly, although he felt quite distressed as well. He looked at Cristina and shook his head, pleading her not to do anything. Not yet, anyway. They had to come up with a plan first.

Victoria could not believe it. Upset, she walked to the tavern quickly. Not only Don Alejandro and Don Francisco would be executed; the alcalde was planning to kill Diego as well! She decided to wait and meet the alcalde later to try to convince him of their innocence.

ZZZZZ


	37. Chapter 37 - Betrayed

*****WARNING*** - this chapter contains an upsetting scene rated MA. It is marked on the text so it can be skipped easily to keep reading the story without a break on continuity. **

**Chapter 58 – Betrayed**

"No, please, I don't want to," said Victoria moving away from Roberto. After the initial shock, people had returned to their own businesses, disappointed because Zorro had not showed up to save the day, giving credit to the alcalde's words about the trial being fair. At siesta time in the afternoon, when everything was quiet, Roberto had come to see Victoria at her house, as arranged.

"What do you mean _you don't want to_?" he asked, puzzled. Only yesterday she was melting in his arms. And she had agreed to a visit that afternoon; it wasn't a surprise this time. It didn't make sense that she'd rejected him now all of a sudden. Well, other than having his friends in jail pending execution, of course. That would be an excellent reason for anybody.

"No. It is inappropriate out of wedlock. And I am not in the mood today, obviously," she said, keeping the distance. "I can't believe you think Don Alejandro and Don Francisco are guilty. And Diego, of all people. They can't be! How could they? You have to realize they are innocent!" Upset, she paced up and down the room. "And how can you be thinking about having sex right now when you have just sentenced three innocent men to death?"

"They had a fair trial, Victoria. I know it is hard to believe they are guilty, and I am sorry, but the evidences against them are irrefutable. But I'd prefer not to talk about that uncomfortable issue; I don't want that part of my job to come between us," he said, with a sorry tone. Then, he tried for the second time. "Come on, don't be silly; I'll make you touch a piece of heaven just as before. Come here," he said with his most seductive tone. She didn't, so he came closer to her instead and tried to kiss her again, but Victoria moved her face away, refusing the contact one more time. Impatient, he grabbed her arms firmly to hold her still and forced a kiss on her mouth, but she complained, wriggling to get away from his strong grip. He finally let her go, as she didn't settle as she had done before. He stepped back to try another approach, but before he could say the three magic words, she slapped his face hard.

"I said _no_!"

That was a bad move. Roberto was not the kind of man that would take "no" for an answer, on anything, and he was already angry and on edge having to go through an inconvenient trial with lawyers, and all the difficulties he was facing to carry out his plan. He replied slapping back, automatically, without thinking, hitting Victoria so hard she landed on the floor, dizzy by the blow and the realization the alcalde wasn't the gentleman he pretended to be; just as Cristina had warned her, but she didn't want to believe it.

He looked at his own hand, upset for blowing up all his efforts to be a respectable gentleman, but soon he shrugged his shoulders. _What the heck, it doesn't matter. I got her already_. _No one will believe her. Everybody has seen us sweet at the tavern._

****** WARNING******

**Scenes of VIOLENT SEXUAL NATURE than some readers may prefer to skip. Not suitable for younger readers. MA RATING on this passage.**

"And I say _yes_!" He grabbed her wrist and dragged Victoria across the floor to her bedroom, ignoring her cries. Once there, he lifted her roughly and dropped her on the bed.

"You can do this the easy way, enjoying it as much as before, or the hard way. Which one is it going to be?" he growled, leaning over her. Despite her fear, her rebellious nature got the best of her, and she kicked his face while shouting:

"Neither!"

She got up quickly and ran to the entrance door. Roberto wasn't used to such disrespect by a woman, even less twice. Possessed by an irrational fury, he recovered fast from the blow and caught her before she could get out. He grabbed her hair with his left hand and pulled hard, dragging her towards the dinner table while whipping off the trickle of blood from his mouth with his right sleeve.

"Come here, you bitch!"

He slapped Victoria twice, but he stopped himself on time with his fist already up before he delivered a punch to her face. _Giving Victoria a black eye is not a good idea. Better not to give her any obvious marks_. With a swift move of his right arm, he swept all the objects that lay on the table to the ground, and then forced Victoria on it, face down.

"No, please, no!" she cried, still struggling, but he was holding her wrists in one hand, pressing on her back with his elbow to keep her pinned down on the table, so firmly she could not get away from his iron grip. He lifted her skirt and ripped her underwear before he fumbled with his trousers.

"Shut up! You should have thought a little before you hit me," he said, leaning forward close to her ear to whisper. "I always get what I want. And you are no exception. It is a shame, because you could be enjoying this as much as I am going to." With these words, he kicked her legs apart, spat on his right hand for lubrication, and then raped her hard, anally, hurting Victoria while she cried with her face crushed on the table. She could not believe what was happening. That nice, handsome, attentive man she thought she was falling in love with had morphed into an evil, savage animal. At that moment, the only consolation for her while being raped that painful, shameful way, was that she could not get pregnant, because she doubted he would withdraw this time. He didn't.

After he finished, he let go of her and she slid down to the floor, where she stayed curled up in a ball under the table, shaking, crying and bleeding, unable to look up at her attacker.

"It would have been easier the other way, if you had cooperated," he said, pulling up his trousers. "I hope you are more reasonable tomorrow," he added, coming out of the house slamming the door behind him.

His words made their way slowly into her numbed brain. "_Tomorrow?_" She couldn't help but heave, and she vomited on the floor at the thought of it.

******exceptional MA rating over******

ZZZ

Victoria needed half an hour to be able to stand up and clear her head. She cleaned herself and changed her clothes, collecting some more into a travel bag, and then she went to pick up his son from Pilar's house. Pilar realized Victoria was very upset, but with the child present she could not ask her boss what had happened. Victoria got on her carriage and drove away quickly. She could not stand the thought of staying at the pueblo close to that man for a further second.

Against all her good judgement she decided to seek help to hide at the De la Vegas. She didn't think she could travel a longer distance as she felt really uncomfortable and in pain sitting at the driver's seat. She was really ashamed to ask Cristina for help, especially now, when she would be more concerned about Diego and the others and she would probably tell her to go to hell, but she was desperate. And after all, Cristina had warned her about him. A woman could not refuse helping another under the circumstances… or could she?

ZZZ

"Sofía!" called little Alejandro when they arrived at the hacienda, excited. He jumped out of the cart and came into the house, looking for his friend. He passed by Cristina, saluting her quickly on his way in. When she saw the child, Cristina came to the door, concerned but angry at the same time.

"Victoria! What are you doing here? What do you want?"

"I… I… I am sorry. I need your help. I don't know what to do," she said, hesitant, getting down from the carriage in slow motion.

"_You_ need _my_ help?" Cristina laughed. "Do you realize my husband, my father, and my father in law are going to be executed tomorrow? Who is going to help _me_ with that? _You_? Are you going to talk to your wonderful boyfriend to get that idea out of his stupid head?"

At her words, Victoria started crying inconsolably, covering her face with both hands, and she had to lean on the carriage to avoid falling over. She looked really distressed, and Cristina wondered what could be the reason for that_. Is she crying now because of Diego?_ _How dare she!? _Cristina thought, upset. Then, she realized there was a small puddle of blood on the driver's seat, and more blood was trickling down Victoria's ankles.

"Victoria, what happened?" she asked in a concerned, more empathic tone. But Victoria could not answer. "Tell me, did he do anything to you? Did he…?"

Victoria nodded, and finally articulated the words in between sobs. "He raped me."

Cristina tried to hug her, but Victoria jumped back as if she was afraid to be touched, refusing the contact.

"Calm down. It's all right. I'll help you, don't worry." She helped her to walk inside, gently and slowly as if otherwise she would break in a million pieces. "You, poor thing. That Bastard! I am going to kill him!" Victoria lifted her watery eyes to look at her, surprised by her words, as she looked so serious and determined.

"What?"

"Never mind. Come in. I'll get the doctor to see you. He is here."

"No. I don't want to see the doctor. I am too embarrassed."

"I know. But you are bleeding. He has to see you."

"No! Don't tell him. Please!"

"All right, I won't," she lied.

She left Victoria resting in one of the guest rooms and went to talk to the doctor, who had come back to check on Diego again, wondering if she should respect Victoria's wishes or not. _What would I like to do if I was the victim? No, I wouldn't like the doctor examining me either; I'll die with the shame. But, she is bleeding… For heaven's sake! What should I do?_

ZZZ

"Doctor, please, can you see Victoria as soon as possible?" Cristina asked, finally making up her mind.

"Yes, of course. What's wrong with her? And where is she? At the tavern?"

"No, she is here."

"Here? All right, that's easier for me. What's wrong?"

"She doesn't want me to get your help; she is too embarrassed. But I think she may be seriously injured, the way she is bleeding."

"Bleeding? I need to see her, definitely. Why is she embarrassed?"

"Aaaaahhh…." She hesitated for a moment, and then she added, in a very low tone, nearly whispering: "She's been raped."

"Raped? Good Lord! Who did that?"

"Can I count on your discretion, if I tell you the whole story?"

"Of course. I never reveal any details of my patients or their afflictions to anyone, unless I have their consent."

"Gabriel Salamanca raped her."

"The alcalde? I can't believe that. Why would he need to do that? Victoria seemed quite interested in him recently. Sure he could have woo her, rather than resorting to that despicable action."

"Precisely. Why did he need to do that, indeed? That man is not what he seems to be. There is something really sinister about him. I warned Victoria he is not a gentleman at all. Not only he has got my father and Don Alejandro in jail under false accusations with the intention to kill them, he made me a filthy proposition too to get my father free in exchange. He is a scumbag. Victoria followed my advice and tried to stay away from him, but that animal raped her savagely. Please, have a look at her. And be gentle, because she is terrified to be touched. She is in shock."

"Yes, of course. Maybe it will be easier for her if you stay in the room with us while I examine her?"

"No, I don't think so. But I will, if she really wants me to stay. Come, this way." The doctor followed her to one of the spare rooms. Cristina knocked softly at the door, and opened it slowly when she got no answer. Victoria was in bed, completely covered by the blanket, hiding from the world, curled up in a fetal position. "Good luck," she whispered, letting the doctor in. "Call me if you need me."

ZZZ

Cristina waited by the door for a few minutes. As her presence in Victoria's room wasn't required, she went back to the tent. Eagle Eye was still at the entrance. He had a broken rib bothering him, but had recovered from the attack quite well otherwise.

"Why is he not waking up? You said he should be awake by now."

"Don't know. He should. Spiritual walk don't take this long. Maybe because he was so sick?"

"We have to move him to the cave to hide him. The soldiers may come this evening to take him to jail with the others to be executed tomorrow. We cannot allow that."

"He should not be disturbed while asleep. Could be dangerous."

"It will be more dangerous if he wakes up in jail only to be hanged tomorrow!" she said, stubborn. Eagle Eye was reluctant to move Diego, but in the end, realizing the risk was too great to ignore it, he had to agree.

"You are right. But I don't like it. Not happy."

"Well, tough then!" she said, coming into the tent. "Help me out. He is too heavy. Come on! Hurry up."

ZZZ

"Mother, how are you?"

Doña María Luisa was outside in the back garden watching the children play. She was obviously trying to be cheerful for them, but was failing miserably.

"What do you think?" she said, wiping off a stray tear. "How's Diego? Has he woken up yet?" Cristina shook her head.

"Not yet. I am going to get Father out of jail and bring him here to the cave," she said, trying to sound in control.

"The Italian?" her mother whispered. Cristina nodded again, as confident as she could be, which wasn't that much. "Don't go. It is too dangerous. I am afraid there is nothing we can do this time."

"Don't say that, Mother. There is always something. There is always a chance."

"Why don't you wait until Diego wakes up?"

"Because I don't know if he is going to wake up in time, or in which condition he will do so. I have to get them out tonight, in the darkness."

Doña María Luisa looked at the kids for a moment. "Tell me, why is Victoria here?"

"Yes, that's the other thing I was going to tell you." She lowered her voice to a whisper then. "The alcalde raped her."

"What?" her mother looked shocked. "Why? I thought they were in love. Everybody thought so."

"I guess she was, but that scumbag wasn't, obviously."

"That poor woman. I can't believe how unfortunate she is."

_Jeez. Shut up, mum._ _What about me?_ "Can you take care of her, please? I am going to change into the Italian's clothes now while we think on a plan. She doesn't know I am the Italian, and I don't think she will welcome any contact with a man right now. Actually, the doctor is checking on her as we speak, and that's as much as she can take, I think."

"All right. I'll look after her. Please, be careful. Bring them back here safely." She hugged her daughter tightly, unable to hold back the tears any longer. "I am so proud of you Cristina. Come back in one piece. You have a daughter to take care of."

As they parted, Cristina looked at Sofía through the tears. "I am not going to tell her anything, so she won't wonder so much were I am. I hope I don't leave you in a terrible position if I fail."

"Shhh. Don't say it. Go."

ZZZ

Cristina looked at her reflection in the mirror while applying the facial hair for her disguise. Then, she remembered the argument she had with Diego, with the _former_ Diego, when she swore she would never put herself in danger as the Italian anymore. She stopped what she was doing and covered her face with her hands, giving up to despair. Sobbing, she wondered what she was supposed to do. Nothing, to keep her promise? Then the next day she could be a widow, and she would need to take care of her daughter and her mother on her own, while avoiding the alcalde. But, what if her still non-existing rescue plan failed, and she was killed, along with Felipe and the others? It would be even worse, as her mother would be the only one left alive to raise Sofía. And her mother was a gentle, fragile soul. Sure she would not be able to cope losing all her family at once. Maybe Victoria could help them. No, not Victoria; she wasn't in a position to help anybody right now, that one. Thinking on Victoria's predicament, rage took over and she stopped crying. She was going to erase that slimy smile off the alcalde's face, no matter what!

ZZZ

Cristina came back to the cave dressed as the Italian.

"Felipe, I am going to rescue them," she said, with an unsure tone. Eagle Eye looked at her, tilting his head, puzzled by her appearance, as he didn't know anything about her abilities with the sword. Felipe stood up and signed quickly.

_"I am going with you."_

"Thank you, Felipe, I thought I could count on you, but I don't know what to do. Or how to do it. We need a plan."

"What is this? What are you doing?" asked the Indian.

"_This_ is Leonardo," said Cristina, opening her arms to offer a better view of her disguise. "I have been helping Zorro sometimes as an Italian swordsman." Eagle Eye looked incredulous. "Don't worry, I know how to fight. This is not as outrageous as you may think."

"Are you going to fight the alcalde?"

"If I have to, yes, I will."

"Don't go," said Eagle Eye, really worried.

"I have to. It is important to get them out before the morning," Cristina insisted.

"Be careful. That man evil. Real evil."

"Yes. I know. That's why I have to stop him."

"I'd go with you. But have to stay with Diego now. Can you wait? He should wake up soon. Could help you when he is awake."

"What if he doesn't wake up on time? Or if the ritual hasn't worked, and he still can't remember anything? I have to go now, while it's dark. I'll have better chances now than later on."

The Indian nodded. Diego should have been awake by now. Something wasn't right; it was taking too long. And she was right. She could miss the chance if she waited for him any longer.

"Come on, Felipe. Let's think on something. We have to get them home."

ZZZZZ


	38. Chapter 38 - The Rescue Plan

**Chapter 59 – The Rescue Plan**

Felipe and Cristina were hiding on the tavern's roof. They had arrived in the dark with two spared saddled horses. They had tied the four animals on the rack at the back of the building, out of view, and they were now carefully surveying the situation across the plaza. Two or three soldiers guarded each door at the garrison and the office, and they could see another one at the roof making rounds, walking from side to side over the tiles.

"Blimey. They are prepared this time. They are obviously waiting for Zorro to arrive, and they are more organized than usual." She concentrated, looking intently into the darkness. "I can count nine. Is that right?" Felipe nodded, after using his fingers to count quickly. "And I assume another two or three will be guarding the back door. Now, how many darts there are left, again?"

Felipe showed up seven fingers. They were short this time. Diego had not been replacing the darts since he had lost his memory because he didn't know how to make them, and the supplies had run out. Felipe didn't know how to prepare the poison either, so, with no fresh mixture left to dip new darts in, there were only seven left since the last time Zorro had used them.

"Dammit. It is not enough. Well, Felipe, we can't fail. You have to be really accurate with those seven; don't waste them. Hopefully, the substance in them is still active and it will work as well as before. I think we can use them on the two guards at the side door, and the one on the roof, and keep the others to neutralize the guards inside the jail. Hopefully, they will be less than four, so they don't have time to raise the alarm. And hopefully, the others outside will not see us," she said, uncomfortable having to incorporate so many "_hopefully's_" into her so called _plan_.

ZZZ

_Diego landed at the theatre again. The actors were on stage rehearsing some scenes, and they looked frustrated. Diego was wearing similar clothes to them, no longer bright orange or black, but a plain, simple tunic in a neutral, faded, brownish colour._

"_Where are Jesus and Judas? This is not serious! It is a waste of time! It is pointless to rehearse without at least Jesus!" complained one of the apostles. "And tomorrow is the first night!"_

"_Ah, look, there he is. Come on, Diego! We are waiting for you. You are late," said the director. He grabbed Diego's sleeve and pushed him to his spot in the middle of the stage. "We are doing The Last Supper. Go!"_

"_What? Where…?" asked Diego, looking around, disconcerted._

"Truly I say to you_… Come on, Jesus, you know the verses!" _

"Truly I say to you that one of you will betray Me," _said Diego hesitantly, nearly stammering._

"Is it I Lord?" _asked one of the apostles. _

"Surely you don't mean me, Lord?" _said another. They all asked Jesus, until it was Judas's turn._

"The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born."

_At the time for Judas to speak there was a moment of silence because he wasn't there._

"_And Judas said: _'Surely it is not I, Rabbi?'_" the new alcalde asked standing in front of Diego, imitating De Soto's voice._

"You have said it yourself," _said Diego in a cold, harsh tone._

ZZZ

"Can you get to that dark corner undetected, and then wait for my signal to neutralize the guard at the roof? I can do an owl cry, like this," Cristina said, imitating the sound really badly. "I'll do it when the guard has reached that corner and has turned already, so you can hit his back with the dart. Unless you have a better idea." Felipe shrugged his shoulders, showing his palms up. He had nothing. "Then you can walk over the roof to get closer to the ones guarding the side door. I'll do the sound again to tell you when you can lean over the roof. All right? I know. As a plan is not much, but I don't know what else to do," she apologized. No, it wasn't really much of a plan; it was total, crazy improvisation. She wondered how the former Diego could do this kind of thing all the time, as easy as pie, and nearly always on his own, with no backup.

Felipe nodded and got off the roof to walk a large semicircle to get to the other side of the plaza undetected. Moving slowly and silently in the shadows, he got close to the wall of the alcalde's office. Now, he would have to jump up to look over the edge of the roof and shoot the dart at the guard, all in one go. _"Diego, why can't you be here doing this instead of me?"_

ZZZ

_They carried on with the verses of the Last Supper, until they got to the part when Jesus predicts Peter's Denial. _

"This very night you will all fall away on account of me, for it is written: _'I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.' _But after I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee," _said Diego confidently, enjoying the acting now after the initial shock of being on stage._

_Peter, the new alcalde, replied:_ "Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will."

"Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times," _Jesus-Diego replied._

"Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you!" _Peter insisted, and all the other disciples said the same._

_While they changed the scenery to Gethsemane in the background —as this was the main rehearsal prior to the play's first night, and the director wanted to check everything would run smoothly— the new alcalde got off the stage to drink a glass of water. Diego didn't move from stage, but he stood at the edge of the platform, away from the machinery to avoid any more accidents._

_Suddenly, the main doors burst open, and a group of soldiers of the Guardia Real came into the theatre. The former alcalde was with them, looking scruffy, filthy with black smoke stains and wearing ragged clothes. He was also bleeding from superficial injures. As a big contrast, his hair was now totally white as if transformed instantly by some stressful event. _

"_Look. There is Judas. Finally," said the new alcalde, leaving the glass on the table to reach for his sword. "What's up with the hair? Are you wearing a wig?"_

"_That's the one! Arrest that man!" shouted De Soto. The guards advanced quickly to apprehend the dark-haired man, pushing some of the now empty chairs of the public out of their way to get there faster._

"_Ignacio, I told you not mess up with me, didn't I?" Roberto growled. "Why are you still alive?"_

_The new alcalde pulled out a pistol with his left hand and shot De Soto, hitting the side of his abdomen. Then he lunged against the soldiers, stabbing the first one through the chest. He pulled the blood-stained sword back quickly and with a continuous, fluent movement, he sliced the throat of the next attacker open. _

_Roberto was a fencing champion, a proud pupil of Sir Edmund, and he didn't hesitate for a moment to take his skills at the "_sala de armas"_ to a higher level, maiming everyone around him. He parried with ease all the thrusts the soldiers delivered trying to reach him, always replying with accurate, deadly ripostes. At one point he produced another pistol from under his robe to shoot a soldier in the face while slicing another with his sword. It was a blood bath. _

_Diego looked at the fighters from the stage, immobile, mesmerized by the alcalde's fencing skills. Roberto was relentlessly fighting his way out of the theatre, leaving a trail of agonizing bodies behind. He was approaching the stage to get to the back door with bullets flying by him, but Roberto was either too fast or too lucky, and none had hit him. Some of the actors on stage had reached for their swords, but, as they were fake props for the play, they were useless against that slicing fury coming their way, so they threw them on the floor and fled the scene, together with the director._

_As he was playing Jesus, Diego didn't have a sword to fight with, not real nor fake. However, he didn't think it was the right time to _"not resist an evil person and turn the other cheek,"_ as his character in the play would advise, so he grabbed one of the make-believe swords that lay on the floor around him and he got on the way, trying to stop that crazy man. _

"_De la Vega, get off the way," Roberto advised with an amused smile while getting closer._

"_No. What have you done?"_

_The new alcalde laughed, but he didn't answer. Instead, he attacked Diego. He sliced his useless sword in two, and when he was about to stab him, he received a gunshot in his shoulder. Diego jumped back and Roberto's sword only scratched him superficially. Roberto hunched in pain and carried on running, ignoring Diego, and finally reached the back door. The remaining soldiers ran behind him while crying for help._

"_In the name of the King, stop that man!"_

_Diego approached the former alcalde. He was trying to sit up, covering his bleeding, injured flank with his left hand._

"_Are you all right?"_

"_Yes, De la Vega. Thank you. I'll live," he grumbled. Then, he looked at Diego directly into the eye. "You are nearly ready now, but you have to see something else before you wake up."_

_All the candles went off at once, and the blackest darkness surrounded Diego._

ZZZ

"Victoria, can I come in?" Doña María Luisa asked after knocking gently on the door. She thought she had heard a fainted "_yes_", so she opened the door slowly and came into the dimly lit room. Victoria was curled up in bed, covered by the darkness; a solitary, small candle was flickering on the side table, not bright enough to light up the room. "How are you? Do you need anything?"

"I am all right, thank you. Or at least I think I will be, eventually," Victoria said, with a shaky voice. She sat up in bed to look at her visitor, pulling the blanket up to her chin as if that gesture could offer her some protection. She was still crying, with her eyes sore, dim with tears, red and puffy. "I am sorry I came here like this, especially this evening, when you have more important things to worry about. Where is Alejandro?"

"He is all right, don't worry. He is in bed."

"Do you…? Do you know why I am here?" She looked so distressed Doña María Luisa got closer to sat by her side on the bed. Oozing compassion, she gently touched one of the hands that clasped firmly at the blanket.

"Yes. Cristina told me what happened. I am very sorry."

"Who else knows?"

"Nobody else. Only Cristina, doctor Hernández, and me."

"Please, don't tell anybody else. Especially Diego. I am so ashamed! Please, don't tell him what happened, ever."

"Don't worry. There is no need for anybody else to know. Unless you want to tell them yourself."

"Is Diego still here? Is he safe?"

"Yes. He is hiding so the soldiers can't take him to jail."

"I am so sorry," said Victoria, sobbing. "I shouldn't be a burden for you tonight. You must be going crazy with worry for your husband and Don Alejandro. But you shouldn't worry. I am sure Zorro will rescue them tonight."

"I hope so," said the old lady, with a faltering voice.

Unfortunately, Zorro was still unresponsive on the cave, but Victoria didn't know that. It was unbelievable she still didn't know Zorro's identity after all that time.

Her hopeful words tipped Doña María Luisa over the edge. She couldn't keep it together any longer, and she finally covered her face with her hands, crying as well. No, Zorro, wasn't coming to the rescue that night. Instead, Cristina and Felipe were, and Victoria was right: she was going mental with the worry.

"Don't cry, please. Everything is going to be all right." They clung to each other seeking comfort in a hug, crying together for a long while.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro looked through the barred prison window at the thin, crescent moon. This could be his last night alive. He had nearly lost hope completely, but he still wanted to believe there was a chance Diego would wake up to come to their rescue as Zorro.

He really missed the good old times when he didn't know who was under the mask; when he could relax completely, confident in the knowledge that the mystical, indestructible, all powerful hero would save the day every time. That golden, carefree dream had finished the day he found out his son was the one dressed in black riding on Toronado. And, that dream was annihilated when Diego had lost his memory.

"_Stop dreaming," _he told himself._ "Even if he wakes up on time, the new Zorro cannot possible succeed to take us out of jail tonight. We are on our own."_

He considered the chances of breaking out of jail themselves. He looked at his friend, who lied in the uncomfortable, rickety, old prison bed, unable to fall asleep due to the worry and the pain, and then he looked up at the window again. No way Francisco could pass through that small space in his condition, even if for some kind of a miracle he was able to break the bars first. Besides, four soldiers were there guarding them, keeping a close eye on their every movement. Don Alejandro gave up. It was a waste of time. A fantasy even worse than believing they could be rescued by Zorro. It wasn't going to happen. They were not going anywhere. At least, not on their own.

ZZZ

_Diego suddenly found himself in a small, dark corridor. He didn't know where he was. He saw a dim light at the bottom of the corridor, far away, that was coming his way. When it was closer, he realized the approaching light was no other but the glowing white hair of alcalde De Soto. _

_ "Come. You have to see this so you understand." _

_ Diego followed him down the corridor, intrigued. "Where are you taking me? Where are we going?"_

_ "Sssshhh. Look."_

_ They got to a dark, damp cellar. A few people were there, men and women, all tied up with ropes, with gags in their mouths so they could not cry out. One of them was a frightened small girl, who was sobbing and whimpering in fear. At the opposite side of the room a distinguished gentleman was tied up to a large barrel of gunpowder, and more barrels were distributed on the space around him. The man was struggling with his bonds, shouting muffled cries into the gag that covered his mouth while he wriggled his whole body to get free. _

_ The new alcalde was at the far end of the room, a dead-end, talking to the brown-haired version of the former alcalde, out of view from the restrained captives, behind them. _

_ "Are you crazy? What do you think you are going to achieve with this? Let them go. Before it's too late," said De Soto._

_ "No. This will be an eye-opener. Lots of people would like to see the king on the guillotine. We have to follow the French in this. We have to get rid of all the aristocrats and the king to recover the Republic."_

_ "This is not the way to do it! Murdering people like this will get you no sympathy. There is a small, innocent girl in there, for Christ sake! You are crazy. I'm leaving. I don't want to be involved in this." He pushed past the new alcalde to leave, but Roberto quickly got his pistol out and banged De Soto's head with the butt._

_ "Oh, yes, you are. Totally involved. You are staying."_

_ Roberto bonded De Soto's hands and feet with a piece of spare rope. Then he got one of the burning candles and set on fire the long fuse that connected to the larger barrel of gunpowder. _

_ "He made a special fuse that burned really slowly, so he had time to get out of here and be far away when the gunpowder exploded. The bastard knew his chemistry well," said the glowing-haired De Soto, sulking. "Do you know who he is, yet?"_

_ Diego shrugged his shoulders. "The new alcalde of Los Angeles?"_

"_That's Roberto Malpartida. He finally succeeded to kill me the third time he tried, at your hacienda. You have to stop him."_

"_What?" Diego turned to look at his companion, but he had disappeared in the blink of an eye. When he looked at the gloomy scene again, De Soto was awake and was struggling to break his bonds, the same as all the others. The fuse was getting dangerously short. The old rope Roberto had used to bond his feet finally snapped with the jerky motions of his legs, and De Soto managed to kick his feet free. _

_De Soto stood up with his hands still tied up at the front. He looked at the barrel and the now nearly finished fuse, which was a few meters away from him at the other end of the room, like evaluating the chances to stop it in time. Then he looked at the little girl. _

"_I am sorry." He turned around and ran towards the corridor._

"_Don't go! Save them!" Diego shouted. _

_De Soto stopped and turned to face him. "Shut up! This haunted me for the rest of my life. There was no time!" he cried, and then continued running away to the exit corridor._

"_Coward son of…"_

_Diego didn't finish the sentence because the barrel exploded._

ZZZZZ


	39. Chapter 39 - Team Work

**Chapter 60 – Team Work**

Stepping on a barrel, Felipe managed to jump high enough to hold on to the wall end, and then he pulled himself up to look over the roof edge. The soldier was walking away from him slowly, unaware of his presence. As planned, he held onto the edge with his left hand and shot a dart with the right, out of balance while precariously holding the thin blowpipe in his lips. Hoping he had hit the target, he let go of the roof to drop back to the ground.

Felipe waited for the "thud" the soldier's body would probably do when he'd fallen asleep over the tiles. On hearing it, he climbed up again to get to the roof and then walked carefully to the other side. He lay flat on the tiles, close to the edge, waiting for Cristina's next "all-clear" signal with a new dart ready in his blowpipe. That owl signal had to be the worse imitation of an owl cry ever, but it seemed to serve its purpose as the soldier's didn't look bothered or suspicious about it. When he heard the signal, Felipe carefully leaned over the edge and shot one dart to the closets soldier, hitting his neck. The soldier slapped his nape sharply as if he had felt a mosquito bite, but he didn't look up. As quickly and silently as he could, Felipe prepared another dart and shot the other soldier, retreating then back out of sight. Now he had to wait for Cristina to climb up to the roof and get to him undetected, because if she approached that side of the building any other way she would probably be seen by the soldiers guarding the other doors.

ZZZ

Diego woke up covered in sweat, feeling his upper body with his hands. He sighed with relief when he checked that it was all in there, and that he hadn't blown up in pieces. It had all just been a nightmare. He looked around and recognized the cave, although he didn't know why he was there, lying on that bed. Then, he tried to sit up but he was too weak to manage on his own. Eagle Eye came to help and held his arms, pulling to get Diego sitting upright.

"You awake. Finally," the Indian said, relieved, with a broad smile.

"Eagle Eye! What are you doing here? I haven't seen you for a long time. How are you?"

"Came to help you remember."

"Remember what?" Diego was confused for a moment, until something clicked in his brain and everything fell in place. Of course! He had lost his memory and had acted like an idiot for the last few weeks. It was an odd feeling, remembering his past and his recent behaviour all at once, because it felt as if the late Diego was another person, different to him.

"I have to talk to my father right now," he said, trying to stand up. His legs felt like jelly, and it took him a while to do it, feeling dizzy and nauseous.

"You can't talk to him. He is in jail. With his friend."

"In jail? Why? What happened?"

"Alcalde said they killed the other alcalde."

"What? It can't be. I remember it now: the new alcalde is the murderer! He lied to us when he took the position as alcalde. His name is not Gabriel Salamanca; he is Roberto Malpartida! I have to get them out as soon as possible." He walked a few steps towards the rack where Zorro's clothes hung, but he lost his balance and leaned to his right to hold onto the table. "What's happening? Why do I feel so sick?"

"You had fever. You been lying down sleeping longer than two days. Came to help you remember. Gave you peyote."

"Peyote? The Devil's plant?"

Eagle Eye nodded, but corrected him at the same time. "It is not Devil's plant. It is medicinal, sacred plant."

"Well, whatever peyote is, it has worked the trick because I can remember everything now."

"Good. Take this. Eat it." He offered a dry kind of cake of a dark, brown colour.

"What's that?"

"Energy. You need it. Me too," he said, eating a large portion himself. Diego sat down at his desk and took a small bite to taste it, as it didn't look very appetizing on the outside. However, the cake was surprisingly tasty.

"Hum. That's good. What's in it?" he asked, taking another bite.

"Mix of plants and extracts, like coca, guaraná, cacao, sugar cane and peanut cream. Indians ate it in the high mountains, in the South. Gives quick energy, but not to be abused."

They ate the cake in silence for a while, feeling better almost immediately. While munching the second serving, Diego asked:

"Where is Cristina?"

Diego suddenly realized he remembered the days he had been with her after he had lost his memory, but not before. Only a moment ago he had thought he could remember _everything_, but it wasn't the case.

"Eagle Eye, this hasn't work! I still don't remember how I met her, or when my child was born!"

"Really? You should remember everything now," said the Indian, frowning.

"No, I still don't remember that. Where is she?"

"She is with Felipe. Went to pueblo to get Alejandro and Francisco."

"What?" Diego stood up quickly again, finishing off the cake. "As Leonardo?" he said with his mouth full. Eagle eye nodded, serious.

"Told her to wait. Told her too dangerous. Alcalde is evil."

"Damn right he is evil! And too good with a sword. We have to help her. Come on, quick, let's go." He got the black clothes from the rack with a steadier hand now after eating the Indian energy cake, and put them on as fast as he could. "She can't win. He is too good for her. Maldita sea! I think he may be too good for me as well if I am not careful!"

ZZZ

"What do we do now?" Cristina whispered when she joined Felipe up the roof. Felipe shrugged his shoulders.

_"Get through the door and shot the other soldiers with the darts?"_ he signed, although he knew that wasn't a good idea.

"No. You won't get them all at once, and they will have time to raise the alarm, or even shoot us."

_"I can try to hit them through the barred window then."_

"Yes, that's a better idea. You can stand on my shoulders to reach it. Team work!" she said, smiling, showing more confidence than she actually had. "But first, we have to get the soldiers closer to the cell window somehow. Come, follow me," she said, climbing down the roof, landing close to the dozing soldiers.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro was pacing the cell like a lion on a cage. When he got close to the window he heard the subtle noise made by a small amount of gravel thrown through the bars. He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the soldiers. They were taking turns at the table to play cards, and none of them was paying attention to him. Two soldiers were playing cards while the other two watched them, ready to look busy if the alcalde suddenly came in.

"Who's there? Zorro?" he whispered to the high window above his head, hopeful.

"No. It's Leonardo," Cristina whispered back. "We need you to get the soldiers close to the window so Felipe can shoot the sleeping darts at them."

"How?"

"I don't know. Think on something. Improvise. That's what we are doing, anyway."

"All right."

Don Alejandro approached his friend to tell him to be ready for the rescue plan.

"Cristina is rescuing us? With Felipe? Where is Diego?" Don Francisco asked, sitting up on the bed.

"I don't know. She didn't say. I guess he is still asleep, or he would be with them." Don Alejandro looked again at the soldiers. One of them glanced at him, bored, when he saw him talking to his friend, but he ignored him to keep watching the players, a much more interesting issue for him. "Are you all right?"

"Kind of, if I keep the arm still."

"Stay where you are. I am going to create a distraction to get the soldiers close to the window. They are using Zorro's sleeping darts. Stay sharp in case I need you."

He moved close to the window again. He sent a last glance to the soldiers, sighed deeply, and then he jumped up to grab the bars, shouting like a desperate mad man.

"I am innocent! I have to get out of here!"

The soldiers stopped playing to look at him, puzzled. The old man was shaking the bars and kicking the wall, acting crazy.

"De la Vega! Stop it! Stop it at once!" Tomás said, coming close to the bars. But the old don ignored him and carried on. "Open the door, Pablo. I'll knock him out so we can have some peace."

Tomás came into the cell with his musket held high, but his victim was ready for him and ducked quickly to avoid the first blow. Tomás lost his balance and fell over his prisoner, offering his rear end as an easy target for Felipe's dart.

They struggled on the floor for a few seconds until the drug made Tomás slow down. Don Alejandro punched the soldier's face before he fell asleep, giving the impression he had actually knock him out cold.

"What the…?" Pablo said from the cell door, unbelieving the scene.

Don Alejandro pushed the inert body away from him and stood up. Then he got carried away in a superb performance of quixotic madness.

"I am innocent! God gave me the strength to fight the oppressors!" he said, showing up his right biceps proudly. "Come and get some, you bastards!"

Pablo approached him quickly. The other two guards left the cards on the table and walked inside as well to help their comrades. Moving surprisingly fast for his age, Don Alejandro managed to dodge Pablo's first blow, but the second hit the side of his head and knocked him down to the floor, where he curled up with the intention to resist the incoming attack until Felipe had managed to get them all neutralized.

While the soldiers kicked the fallen man Felipe shot the last three darts, but unfortunately, he missed the last one. When his friends fell asleep without being hit, the last soldier standing grabbed Don Alejandro by his collar and pulled him up.

"What's going on? What have you done?" He started to knock the living daylights out of the old man while Felipe watched in horror from the window.

Don Francisco came close to help his friend, unsure what to do because he felt too weak to take on that man, until he saw Felipe's arm pointing through the bars to the rear end of one of the fallen guards. He nodded, understanding, and then grabbed the thorn gently, careful not to pierce his own skin with it. He attacked the remaining guard, sinking the poisoned dart deep in his leg. The soldier turned around and hit Don Francisco, sending him tumbling down to the floor, where he cried and cursed in pain when he hit his injured arm badly again. The poison worked so fast the soldier could only deliver two more weak punches to Don Alejandro before he fell asleep on top of him.

"Father, open the door!" Cristina said after changing positions with Felipe at the window. "The soldiers inside have the key! We can't open it from here."

Don Francisco stood up and staggered to get close to Pablo. He grabbed the key ring the soldier had hanging on his belt, and then walked to the door as fast as he could to open it, letting the Italian and Felipe in.

"Are you all right?" Cristina asked, hugging her father.

"Yes, don't worry about me. Help Alejandro. He got quite a beating."

"Oh, my God! You shouldn't have exposed yourself like this!" Cristina said, shocked by Don Alejandro's state when they helped him up. His face was covered in bruises, with a bleeding nose, split lip and eyebrow.

"Well, it worked, didn't it? I got them close to the window, as you wanted," the old don grumbled, spitting some blood out. He could feel one of his teeth moving, and he hoped it would hold on in place and he would not lose it. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"We have the horses ready at the other side of the plaza, behind the tavern. The only way to get there undetected it's walking over the roof, the same way we came."

"Dammit," he said, with a hand holding his bruised ribs. "We old crocks will need some help with that, I am afraid."

ZZZ

Roberto was sitting at his desk, revising some paperwork. He stopped what he was doing, with a piece of paper on his right hand, listening intently when he realized he could not hear the pacing on the roof anymore. Angry, he stood up. He had given explicit orders to guard the roof, the place Zorro always used to ambush the soldiers from above. He was about to walk through the back door to get to the garrison to yell more orders when the pacing on the roof tiles re-started. He sat down again and carried on with his task, trying to calm down, not realizing the noise of the footsteps seemed to flow on the same direction all the time for a while.

ZZZ

It took them a while to reach the horses at the other side of the plaza. Cristina made them walk over the roof one by one, afraid someone could raise the alarm if too many footsteps could be heard over the roof at once. She wondered how Diego could walk on those same tiles silently as a ghost, because it wasn't an easy task. When they finally got to the horses, Cristina and Felipe helped the old men to get up the saddle. They were a sorry sight, and she hope they would have the strength to get home safely on their own.

"Go to the hacienda to hide at the cave as fast as you can," Cristina said. "We'll stay here a bit longer to make sure the soldiers don't follow you. We'll distract them if it is necessary."

"Please, be careful," said Don Alejandro. "Don't engage them. Don't be as stupid as I was."

"Don't worry. Come on, go!"

Cristina and Felipe watched them walk away slowly and silently following the shadows of the buildings until they reached the edge of the pueblo, where they started a slow canter.

"We have to make sure they have at least half an hour advantage to get there safely," Cristina said. "If the soldiers raise the alarm, you'll run away on your horse, making sure they follow you on a wild goose chase, away from the cave's entrance. I'll stay here to fight the remaining ones so they don't all follow you at once. Besides, I would like to get hold of that incriminating document written by De Soto."

"_No, you ride with me,_" signed Felipe. "_Don't stay here on your own._"

"I don't know. You are probably right. But it will be easier if we split, anyway, riding in different directions. This is team work, remember? We have done well so far. Although, I wonder what Diego would have done instead."

"_Do you think he would be awake by now?_"

"Diego awake?" Cristina asked, not sure she had understood. Felipe nodded. "I don't know. But I hope so. We need him more than ever."

ZZZZZ


	40. Chapter 40 - The Real Deal

**Chapter 61 – The Real Deal**

Felipe was riding the fastest horse at the hacienda De la Vega, but not Toronado. Initially, Felipe wanted to ride out disguised as Zorro, on the black stallion, but they had decided that, on the slight chance that Diego would wake up on time, it was better to leave Zorro's gear at his disposal.

A bunch of soldiers gave chase, following him into the country side, away from the route to the De la Vega hacienda, just as planned. Felipe was careful to lead them away while keeping a fairly constant distance so the soldiers would not lose sight of him completely in that moonless, dark night.

After more than twenty minutes of relentless chase, he considered Don Alejandro and Don Francisco should have been able to reach the cave safely already, so he pressed on and headed there as well after losing sight of the soldiers by disappearing into a dark, dense wood he knew so well he could navigate it with his eyes closed.

ZZZ

Cristina waited in the shadows, inconspicuously resting against the back wall. She could hear all the frantic activity of the soldiers at the garrison, but she could not see them.

Only a few minutes ago the alcalde had come into the jail and had raised the alarm, something they expected was going to happen at some point, but not so soon. As planned, Felipe had galloped away drawing the attention of the soldiers and she had stayed behind with the intention to steal the document the alcalde had used to incriminate Don Alejandro and her father.

While more soldiers got ready to search for the fugitives, she climbed up to the roof again to get to the alcalde's office through the ceiling. The room was empty, so she jumped inside and approached the safe, which was closed. She tampered with the opening mechanism for a while, in vain. She could not open it. Diego may have been able to do it, but not her. Giving up, she quickly searched among the papers on the desk, but she could not find anything remotely interesting or useful for them.

When she was about to get out through the ceiling again with the intention to get on Perseo to fool the other soldiers to chase her, the alcalde returned to his office.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Cristina didn't answer. Instead, she quickly jumped on the desk to reach for the rafters to pull herself up to the opening on the ceiling, but Roberto lunged and tackled her down to the ground before she managed to get out. They struggled on the floor until she hit his throat hard with the side of her hand, giving her time to crawl away from him while he choked.

She stood up and reached for the pistol she had tucked in her belt behind her back, but it wasn't there. She had lost it when she hit the floor. The pistol was there now, out of reach, close to the alcalde's right hand. While she unsheathed her sword he grabbed the pistol and got up, coughing to clear his throat. He displayed a wicked grin when he saw that strange man wielding a sword against him.

"Really? That's great. I haven't killed anyone with my sword for a while. Please, allow me to keep your weapon safe." He tucked Cristina's pistol in his belt and quickly got his sword from the sheath that hung from his chair.

They wasted no time to engage in a fencing bout to test each other's skills. Cristina realized pretty soon the alcalde was an exceptionally good fencer, with a similar style to Diego. So much, he had probably studied with the same master, Sir Edmund Kendall, as she recognized some of his signature moves. She got distracted with that thought and its implications, because if that man had studied with Sir Edmund in Madrid he could knew Diego from University. Roberto took advantage of that momentary distraction and nearly succeeded in taking the sword off her hand with a hard beat.

"You are good, whoever you are," said Roberto with his vicious smile, stepping back a short distance away from her while wielding his sword, shaking his wrist up and down only slightly as if he was pondering what do next.

They both knew the measuring period had finished, so they circled each other ready for the real match. Cristina imagined that evil smile hovering over Victoria during her ordeal and her anger bubbled up. She fervently wished she could erase that grin off his face for ever, for the good of mankind.

"Yes, you are good, but you are not good enough!"

He suddenly charged and attacked Cristina furiously. She tried hard, but she struggled to parry his thrusts.

That man meant business. He knew schooling, saloon fencing, but he also knew "real life" fencing, with the efficient, ugly movements that would result on a dead opponent in a matter of seconds; not the pretty, fancy ones designed to wow in a friendly bout. All his years as a pirate fending for his life while boarding enemy ships had made him a very dangerous and unpredictable man with a sword.

For the first time in her life, while parrying a shower of thrusts right and left, Cristina felt she was not going to be able to get out of a fencing match alive.

In the end, she parried a thrust that was directed to her abdomen, to her vital organs, but she didn't quite manage it. Roberto's sword carried on screeching forcibly against her sword, until it sunk on her hip, going all the way in to come out at her back.

She cried out in pain, and when Roberto pulled the blood stained sword out of her body she tried to get away from him, retreating quickly, but he chased her relentlessly, continuing the attack until she could no longer keep going, with her back against the wall. He finally disarmed her with another hard blow to her sword, which fell to the floor with a loud clank.

_Mierda._ The last exchange was so fast she had not had time to be afraid yet. But now she was. She closed her eyes, thinking she had seconds to live. She thought she would see her entire life passing fast in a flash in front of her eyes, as people had described it happened to them in a similar situation, but she didn't. She only saw the fear. Her legs gave way and she dropped to the floor slowly, with her back sliding down the wall.

ZZZ

Mendoza heard the soldier's cries when they spotted a rider leaving the pueblo. For what he could make up of the pandemonium that followed, prisoners had scape from jail. "_I'm sure Zorro has to be involved in this,_" he thought, pushing the blanket to a side.

He got out of bed, where he had been all day since he had fainted in the morning. Well, that was what he had been told, that he had fainted, but he could recall someone approaching him from behind just before he had lost consciousness. And they said he had smashed his head against the floor quite badly again. As it was the second time in a row such thing had happened, he was starting to be suspicious about it. This could be foul play.

He put his uniform on and had a quick glance at his reflection in the mirror while buttoning up his jacket. He didn't like what he saw. A blood stained, filthy bandage was tightly pressing on his forehead, going all the way around the back of his head. That area close to the crown still hurt, pulsating with every heartbeat. His face displayed the dark shadow of a rough two-day beard, dark bags under his eyes, and an overall exhausted appearance. He took the bandage off to palpate his scalp carefully. Yes, he could do without it.

When he got out of the infirmary he bumped into Corporal Sepúlveda, who passed running in the opposite direction.

"Sergeant Mendoza, what are you doing out of bed? Are you all right?" he asked, after stopping in his tracks to avoid running over the injured man.

"Yes. Tell me, what's going on?"

"The alcalde got Don Alejandro and Don Francisco in jail with the intention to execute them tomorrow. They have escaped."

"Zorro?"

"I don't know. I guess, but I haven't seen him. But someone saw a rider leaving the pueblo, and he didn't have black clothes on. A group is already chasing that rider. The rest, we are preparing a search party." He suddenly grabbed Mendoza's upper arms. "Sergeant, I'm so glad you are feeling better. I have missed you so much for the last two days. The alcalde has gone crazy!"

"That must come with the job, then. All of them were crazy. Unfortunately for me."

"I don't like the dark side of this one. And I don't like the new soldiers he recruited."

"Neither do I," he agreed, lost in thought. "I think one of them attacked me."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know, but it is time I find out. I am going to see the alcalde now. Stay alert."

"Sí, señor! At your service, sergeant."

ZZZ

"Look up, please," Roberto said. Cristina lifted her head, opening her eyes to look at him through her blue-tinted glasses.

"Who are you?" he asked, resting the tip of his sword on her throat.

They were both breathing heavily with the fighting effort. Cristina's chest rose up noticeably every time she gasped for air, panting, and she tried hard not to scratch her skin with the tip of his sword. Although, it was a pointless worry, because she thought she was going to have that already blood-dripping sword sinking deep in her neck any moment now.

"Answer me!"

"I am… Leonardo… di Caprio," she said after a while, reluctantly.

"I heard about you. But the name is not enough. Why are you here? Why are you helping these people?"

She looked at him, defeated, but defiant at the same time. The least she could do was to maintain her dignity and not to say anything.

"Do you know Zorro? Do you know who he is?"

"I may do… but I'm not going to tell you." She breathed in, and then added in Italian, as a little satisfaction: "_Figlio di puttana_."

Roberto laughed at her words and attitude.

"I know what that means, _cabrón_, and believe me, you may be right about that," he said, chuckling. Then he pressed a little harder with the sword, and added, serious. "Something else you may want to say, before you die?" But, he had no intention to kill that man right then. Torture would probably be more useful that a quick death, and more enjoyable to watch.

"He doesn't, but I do," said a powerful, firm voice. Recognizing it, Cristina's heart skipped a beat and then raced faster, in anticipation. She looked up and there he was, coming into the room through the gap in the ceiling: Zorro, in all his former glory, effortlessly jumping inside the office with his sabre up and ready and his cape floating graciously at his back. It was the real deal this time, not like that comedy stunt he did when he fell off the chandelier on the first outing of the _new Zorro_.

Roberto turned to find out who was talking, with the tip of the sword still resting on Cristina's neck. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, she pushed the sword aside with her hand and crawled quickly away from the alcalde while Zorro lunged at him.

ZZZ

"Madre de Dios!" Mendoza exclaimed when he came into the alcalde's office. Zorro was fighting the alcalde while his friend the Italian sat on the floor against the wall in a small puddle of blood. The fighters used all the space available, attacking each other so furiously their swords would send some sparks out every time they collided forcibly with a loud clank. It was a magnificent sight, and Mendoza watched them mesmerized with his jaw dropped. It was difficult to say who had the advantage there. He had never seen Zorro struggling in a sword fight, but it looked like he had found his match in Gabriel Salamanca. "Madre de Dios!"

He stepped back out of the office and called for backup.

"Sepúlveda! Come, quickly!"

ZZZ

Zorro was really struggling there. Despite the energy cake he wasn't feeling his best, and he had been out of action as a swordsman for a long time. Actually, in all the years he had been in Los Angeles after leaving Madrid, he had never faced an opponent that could match his skills with the sword, not even the Russian. But Roberto Malpartida was a fencing champion, the best disciple Sir Edmund ever had, much better than his second best, Diego de la Vega. When Roberto had turned into a criminal, he had probably set in motion the suspicions about the fencing master training traitors to the Spanish Crown due to his British origin, a suspicion that had ultimately resulted in his dead in California at the hands of the bounty hunters.

They both fought in a similar way, but Roberto had the edge with all the moves he actually used to kill people, while Zorro had always refrained himself to avoid hurting anybody. Besides, he was distracted by the sight of an injured Cristina in need of help, so he was rushing up trying to end the fight quickly, unsuccessfully.

"Zorro, you haven't taken up the offer of a pardon I made for you yesterday," the alcalde said stepping away from the masked man, interrupting the fight for a moment.

"As it is coming from you, I'll have to decline that offer." He wanted to add "_Roberto_", but he bit his tongue in time. It wasn't a good idea to reveal he knew the alcalde's identity until he could prove it.

"Why did you take that map from my office?"

"What map?" Zorro said, with an innocent tone. Roberto laughed.

"Precisely. What map?" He continued fighting, attacking Zorro with a renewed energy.

The same as Cristina, Diego had trouble to fend off that furious succession of blows that didn't allow him to reply with effective ripostes. When he parried yet another vicious thrust directed to his heart, he had to wonder if that could be the end of Zorro.

ZZZ

Roberto was fed up with the fight. He was trying to find an open gap to hit the man in black, but the masked bandit always managed to close it with his sabre at the last moment, parrying more or less efficiently all his deadly thrusts. What were the odds of finding two excellent swordsmen in a small pueblo like Los Angeles, at the edge of the civilized world? And on top of that, one that had probably been trained by Sir Edmund, like himself?

Roberto considered again the possibility that Diego de la Vega could be Zorro. He had seen him in training, when Diego was only a beginner and not very skilled with the sword yet, but he had the potential. That was during Diego's first year at University, so he probably had got much better at the end of his studies in Madrid. Otherwise, who else in Los Angeles could have been trained by that British fencing master? But, he had seen Diego struggling in that tent only a few hours ago. How could it be him?

After the last failed attempt to pierce his opponent's heart, Roberto stepped back again, sick and tired of the mystery, and reached for the Italian's pistol still in his belt to finish the fight quickly, so he could find out who was the man under the mask the easy way.

ZZZ

Cristina watched in horror how that despicable man got her pistol out to aim at Zorro. She blamed herself for losing it before. If she hadn't, the alcalde would probably be dead by now and this would not be happening. She tried to get up, but she was in shock and felt too weak with the blood loss to help her husband in any way. It became clear to her they were both going to die, and Sofía would be an orphan. Rage took over, but it was somehow drowned by her frustration. This wasn't fair. Diego had just recovered his memory, and she hadn't had the chance to talk to him yet.

ZZZ

When Diego saw that pistol aiming at him, he suddenly remembered the other times he had been shot at, memories that weren't there only a moment ago, like the duel with the German. All that period of time since he was shot at the back the day Victoria got married, up to the moment when he had lost his memory when he had banged his head on a tree, was a total blur for him. And he still could not remember much about Cristina.

Diego looked at her and their gazes crossed. She looked pale and miserable, and obviously frustrated because she could not help him. Angry, he looked back at Roberto, ready to dodge the incoming bullet, eager to keep on living; for her, and for their family.

ZZZ

Eagle Eye had followed Diego to the pueblo. His broken rib was bothering him, so he tried to stay away from trouble and hid on the roof to assist Diego if it was necessary, without engaging the soldiers. He wished that after Zorro had rescued the prisoners and sorted things out, he would be on his way back to the Serrano Indian territory in San Bernardino, with his son, but he knew it would not be the case. The crow had visited him last night, and he had accepted it. He didn't know exactly when or how, but it was going to happen.

Zorro was struggling against that evil man, and it was unlikely he could win that fight. Eagle Eye got one of his arrows ready and aimed at that dark soul, waiting for a chance when he could have a clear shot, as the fighters moved so fast he was afraid he could accidentally hit Zorro instead. He didn't have to wait long.

The alcalde suddenly stopped the swordfight to get a pistol from his belt, stepping back away from Zorro, right in the middle of his visual field through the opening in the ceiling. When the alcalde aimed at Zorro with the pistol, Eagle Eye let go of the arrow, which swiftly wheezed across the air towards its target.

ZZZ

When the arrow hit Roberto's chest, his right arm jerked upwards when he had already pressed the trigger. The bullet flew up to the ceiling, hitting Eagle Eye in the neck. The Indian lost his balance, swooping inside the office, smashing the floor at the same time as the alcalde did when he fell backwards to lie with the long arrow shaft sticking out of him like a flag pole.

Zorro dropped his sword to help his friend. The bullet had pierced an artery on his neck, which was spurting blood at an alarming rate.

"I knew I would die here. Crow told me," Eagle Eye said. He winced in pain when Zorro pressed on the bleeding wound to try to stop the haemorrhage. "But had to save you first. Was my duty. Happy I helped."

"No," said Diego, shaking his head, refusing to agree with that, while still pressing with his gloved hand on the bleeding wound, despite the Indian's complaints. "You are not going to die. I'll get you to safety."

"No. Get your wife. I'm done. You know it." He added a few more words in his own language and then rested quietly, losing consciousness in Diego's arms.

Diego stood up, cursing. He knew Eagle Eye was right. He wasn't going to make it, not with a wound like that. There was no way to save him before he would bleed to death; he could do nothing for him. At least, he had lost consciousness so fast he didn't suffer much.

Diego looked behind him, at the alcalde, who was also unconscious with the arrow sticking out of his chest. It wasn't likely he would make it either, so that was a load out of his mind, as he would not need to finish him off right then.

ZZZ

Sergeant Mendoza came back into the office with Corporal Sepúlveda to find a gruesome scene. There was blood everywhere, and some was still flowing slowly from the Indian's neck, creating a dark, red puddle on the floor around his head. Zorro was picking up his sword, and sheathed it swiftly with a sharp tap at the hilt. Behind him, Mendoza could see the alcalde sprawled on the floor with an arrow sticking out of his chest.

"Sergeant Mendoza, please, make sure Eagle Eye is buried in Indian sacred land," Zorro said, pointing to the lifeless body on the floor beside him.

"Yes, Zorro." Mendoza walked past him and kneeled by the alcalde. "Madre de Dios! Sepúlveda, get doctor Hernández at once!" _Why it has to be me always finding the alcaldes like this, on their last breath?_

"Don't bother. I don't think he is going to make it," Zorro said.

"Still… just in case. And get Padre Benítez too!"

Sepúlveda nodded and got out of the office through the front door with an unsettling _déjà vu_ sensation.

Zorro walked a few steps towards the Italian. Mendoza watched him take his hands gently to help him up. With the effort to stand, Leonardo cried in pain, and then he fainted in Zorro's arms, floppy like a rag doll. Zorro lifted his friend effortlessly and came to the door, whistling for Toronado. He placed the Italian carefully on the saddle, but before he could climb up on it as well, he had to fend off a small group of soldiers that attacked him. He managed to repel their advances, and luckily for him, the bullets they fired didn't hit the target. After punching the last soldier to knock him out, he jumped quickly on the saddle and whistled loudly again. Holding the Italian in front of him, they galloped away as fast as they could, followed by the Italian's horse.

"Go, Zorro," Mendoza whispered by the office door. His _friend_ had saved the day once again. It was a relief, because otherwise, he would have been court martialled in the morning as he would have never agreed to execute Don Alejandro.

ZZZZZ

**A.N - Hope you enjoyed the maiming through the different POVs. Sorry, I follow Stephen King's advice and I kill my darlings at any chance. **

**Thanks for your kind reviews, faithful reviewers! **

**To all those silent lurker-readers out there reading this story: I guess you like it, because you keep reading it, but I would like to know your opinion. Come on, what's the worse than can happen? Please, review. It will only take a few seconds of your valuable time. And you can do it as a guest, if you want, anonymously. **

**Thanks! **


	41. Chapter 41 - Diego is Back

**Chapter 62 – Diego is back**

The soldiers had carried the alcalde to the infirmary and placed him on the operating table. A table that was hardly ever used, as the soldiers almost never got so severely injured as to need surgery. Zorro probably had something to do with that, as he took pride to protect the soldiers from serious harm, and he tried hard to never injure them himself, other than the inevitable contusions and bruises.

Doctor Hernández cut the alcalde's jacket and shirt to remove them quickly. He discarded the torn clothes on the floor, and then he examined the wound. It was bleeding, but not so much as he would have expected, so maybe that bastard had been lucky and the arrow had not damaged any mayor blood vessels in his lungs. He turned him on his side to look at the back. He could see the arrow head tip sticking out a little, just piercing the skin. Definitely, that man was lucky, because he could easily retrieve the sharp arrow head and the binding material, and then remove the shaft.

"What do you think, doctor?" Armando said. He was holding the alcalde's body still, on his side, so the doctor could have access to the back, not interfering with the long arrow shaft still sticking out of the chest. "Is he going to make it?"

"I don't know yet. How could I know? Arrow injures in the chest like this are nearly always fatal. But I think I can retrieve this one without much problem, so maybe he stands a chance."

The doctor gathered all the materials he needed, ready for the emergency surgery. When he was about to start, he thought about Victoria. And Don Francisco. And how Don Alejandro and his friend would have faced a certain death in the morning if Diego had not woken up in time. And he thought about the Indian, and how he had warned everybody that man on the table was evil. And now that unfortunate man was dead, and by the alcalde's hand.

He should not try to save that man. He wondered if he should finish him off right then instead for the good of mankind and, especially, for the good of the people in the pueblo. But he could not do it. He had always followed the principle of "first, do not harm", and he didn't want to be negligent either. To lose a patient because he could do nothing to save him was one thing; to not even try to treat something he may manage to fix successfully was another matter. At least, he had to try saving that bastard using the best of his abilities. If he'd pass away then, after he had tried, it would not be his problem. Only God would be the Judge.

With that thought, he got on with the task to remove the arrow and treat the wound, unemotionally, trying to detach from what he was doing, because if he had thought for a further second about Victoria's injuries, the urge to sink that arrow head back into the alcalde's lung would have been too strong to resist.

ZZZ

When Diego arrived at the hacienda Felipe was already there, waiting anxiously. Toronado and Zorro's gear were missing, so he assumed Diego had recovered, but he didn't know to what extent. As Cristina was taking too long to return, Felipe was already considering riding back to the pueblo when he saw Zorro coming through the front door carrying her in his arms.

"Felipe, I need your help. She is injured."

Zorro walked down the corridor to her room. Felipe follow him. When he left her carefully on her bed, Felipe signed: "_Should I get the doctor?_"

"No. The doctor is probably busy at the pueblo tending for the alcalde. I don't think he will be able to come tonight. This wound is painful, but hopefully it is a flesh wound only," he said, taking off her boots and trousers to have a quick look. "Yes. I don't think it has penetrated the abdomen, and it is not bleeding so much now. I think she was very lucky. She could be dead right now, because the alcalde is deadly with the sword. I think the only reason why I could withstand the onslaught myself was because she had already tired him out when I arrived."

"_Are you all right?_"

"Yes, I am fine, don't worry. I am not hurt. Can you please remove all that paint from her horse while I clean her wound? He went straight into his stall. Thank you." He removed the hat and the mask because he could not see well enough through the holes and then shook his hair, scratching his scalp. "Aaah…that's better!"

"_Have you recovered your memory?_"

"Yes, I have. I am sorry I couldn't remember you before, Felipe. I really am."

Felipe hugged him tightly, crying with the emotion to have his mentor back. Diego tapped his head gently. "I am back. And I am here to stay, son. Don't worry."

ZZZ

Diego finished cleaning and dressing Cristina's wound. He put the mask and the hat back on and let her resting in bed while he came down to the cave to check on the others.

"Father! Are you all right?" he asked when he saw the bruises on his face.

"Diego! Is it you? Really?" He hugged his son clanging onto him as if he would escape from his arms otherwise if he didn't hold him tightly enough. "Can you remember now?"

"Yes, Father, I can."

Don Alejandro let go of his son to look at him. He removed his hat and the mask to see his face, also crying with the emotion, the same as Felipe. "My son. The real one!"

Diego smiled. "Yes, Father, the real one. I am sorry my substitute behaved like an idiot most of the time. That must have been quite trying for everybody. I must apologize for that."

"Yes, Diego, you were a pain in the arse sometimes!" He hugged his son again, laughing, tapping his back. "I thought I could lose you again, because you couldn't wake up. I am so glad you are back with us, Son."

"Yes, me too, Diego. It was time," Don Francisco said, coming closer. "Where is Cristina? Felipe said he was going to return to the pueblo as she was taking too long to come home. Is she all right?"

"She is in her room. I am afraid she bit off more than she could chew this time."

"Is she injured?"

"Yes, but it is a flesh wound only, don't worry. Deep, but she should be fine. The alcalde pierced her hip with his sword, all the way through."

Diego told them what had happened at the office, and how Eagle Eye had saved him at the last moment when Roberto was about to shoot him.

"Eagle Eye died. The alcalde shot him. The bullet hit his neck damaging an artery and he bled to death in minutes. I could do nothing to save him."

"Oh, no. Poor man. He insisted the alcalde was evil. Is Gabriel dead too?" Don Alejandro asked.

"I don't know. But I don't think he is going to live. By the way, Eagle Eye was right. The alcalde is evil, and he lied to us. He is Roberto Malpartida, not Gabriel Salamanca. He is the one that killed De Soto. I remember him now. We were acting together on a play in Madrid during my first year at University."

"He killed De Soto?!" Don Alejandro said, disgusted. "Is he the one that butchered him?"

"Yes."

"That's why De Soto was crawling his way towards the house, to tell you about him! What happened in Madrid, Diego? You never mentioned that name. Or at least, I can't recall it."

"Roberto was a republican, a crazy fanatic follower of the French Revolution. He killed a whole family of aristocrats by blowing them up with gunpowder: the Duque de Osuna, his wife and his sons, including a little girl; all blew up in pieces. And he tried to kill De Soto then, twice, but he failed. He nearly killed me too when he was making his way out from the theatre chased by the Royal Guards, because I got on the way to stop him. After that, he disappeared."

"Diego, why did you never mention that? You never told me such thing happened, or that you were in danger!"

"That's precisely why I didn't tell you, Father. It was my first year at Madrid, and I didn't want you to believe there were mad anarchists and republicans around every corner waiting to blow everybody up in a million pieces. Especially me, as I can also be considered a distant relative to the king. That's why I never mentioned it. But, in retrospect, it would have been better if I had, obviously."

"Yes, it would," Don Francisco said. "But, why is he here pretending to be the alcalde, and blaming us for De Soto's death?"

"I don't know. But it has to do with the map, and this land. He wants this land badly. There must be something here he wants," Diego said.

"A treasure? Gold?" Don Alejandro said.

"Probably. Who knows. Something. We have to stay alert. I don't think he is going to survive. If he doesn't, we have to watch Don Miguel closely. He is involved in this as well, for sure."

"What if he does survive?" Don Francisco asked.

"I'll have to denounce him to the authorities then, like the judge in Monterey or the alcaide at the Presidio in Santa Bárbara. He killed De Soto, and he probably killed Gabriel Salamanca if that person was real. And the _alguaciles _and judges will be very excited in Madrid to finally catch up with him for his crime after all these years."

"I'll go to Santa Bárbara tomorrow, regardless. I don't care if he lives or dies, someone has to investigate this mess officially," Don Alejandro said.

"What are we going to do tonight?" Don Francisco said. "Should we stay here at the cave, in case the soldiers come looking for us? And what about you, Diego?"

"Yes, stay here just in case, hiding. I am going back upstairs. I'll keep Zorro's clothes on. If the soldiers come, I'll fight them off. Better than pretending I am still impaired. I'm through with that."

ZZZ

Victoria couldn't sleep. Restless, she turned and twisted in bed reliving the nightmare again and again. In the end, she got out of bed and went to check on his son, who was peacefully asleep in Sofía's room, sharing her bed. She had to smile looking at them, the best friends in the world except when they played with swords.

Then she went to the kitchen to prepare a calming herbal tea. She was still sore and had to walk in short steps, but she wasn't bleeding anymore. When she passed by the library she heard a noise and she looked into the room. She stopped in her tracks when she saw a man in black.

"Zorro! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question, couldn't I?" he said, also surprised to find her there. "Are you all right?"

His eyes looked warm and concerned for her. She had not seen those blue eyes looking at her with any hint of interest for a long while, as he had been so cold with her recently. It was nice to see he still cared for her. Then she realized she wasn't looking her best, with dishevelled hair and puffy red eyes after all that crying. She could even show blood stains in her nightgown. Maybe, but she didn't dare to look down to check. She pulled the collar up to cover the open gap at her cleavage and then nodded nervously. When he stepped in her direction she jumped back keeping the distance, like a skittish rabbit. At that point, she thought she could never be touched by a man ever again, not even him.

"Victoria, what's wrong? Did something happen to you? What are you afraid of?"

"Nothing! I am all right," she replied, rather too quickly to sound true.

"You don't look all right. Is there any way I can help you, Victoria?" He reached for her again, but she refused the contact. "You can trust me. I would never hurt you."

Tears came rolling down her checks. She had made the worse decision in her life by getting involved with the alcalde. Zorro was right. Whoever he was under the mask, he would never hurt her. She didn't want to be touched, but looking at him she remembered how good it was to be in his arms, and how safe she always felt in there.

"I am so sorry, Zorro. I should have known better, from the beginning. It is my fault, and I deserve it. Forgive me," Victoria said, impulsively seeking safety in his arms. She hugged him tightly, sobbing, with her face resting on his strong chest, and he responded rubbing her back gently, uncomfortable, not giving in to a full embrace. Old feelings stirred in him again all of a sudden. He could not believe the powerful effect Victoria always had on him. Always, except when he had forgotten about her and everybody else, of course. The scent of her hair brought back some pleasant memories of their past together, and he closed his eyes to visualized them better. Then he remembered the episode at the alcalde's office and opened them at once. She was involved with that killer! And he had said he didn't care what she did with her love life! What a fool!

"Did…?" No, even if something awful had actually happened, he could not ask her about it.

At that moment, Doña María Luisa came into the library, startling him. His sudden blush was partially covered by the mask, and he hoped she hadn't noticed it.

Zorro pushed Victoria back gently, away from his chest.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"I… I… I came for support," she said, wiping off her tears, embarrassed. Diego caught the look exchange between the women, and how the older one shook her head. "I… I…"

"Victoria came to help me, because she knew I would be worried sick tonight," said the older woman. "Thank you, Victoria. I really appreciated your support."

Victoria swallowed hard, obviously uncomfortable, and she nodded nervously.

"You are welcome, Doña María Luisa," she managed to say in the end, like a chirpy little bird.

"How is my husband, Zorro? Is he all right?"

"He'll be fine. Don't worry," Zorro said. "They are all safe now."

"Even Diego? Is he with the others?" Victoria asked.

"Yes, Diego is fine too. He is awake now and he has recovered his memory thanks to Eagle Eye. But I can't tell you where he is. They are all hiding at my secret place, safe."

"Diego has recovered his memory? That's wonderful news!" Victoria said. "Thank you, Zorro. See, I told you not to worry, as Zorro would take care of everything."

She looked at Doña María Luisa, but in her denial, she didn't catch the funny look the older woman gave her.

"How's my daughter?"

Doña María Luisa had just been at Cristina's room, where she found her unconscious on the bed. When she heard Zorro's voice at the library, Doña María Luisa came out to find out how bad her wounds were.

"She'll be fine too," Zorro said.

"What's wrong with her?" Victoria asked.

"She… she…" Diego started, with his mind blank.

"She fainted with the emotion when she found out Diego has recovered his memory and he is going to be fine. It was too much for her. Zorro gave her an herbal mix to calm her nerves," Doña María Luisa said. She wondered if all the lies she had just told in a couple of minutes would need confession with Padre Benítez, because lying so blatantly wasn't her style. "I'm going to see her now. Victoria, can you come with me, please?"

"Yes, of course. Goodbye, Zorro. Thank you for all your help."

ZZZ

"I am second in command in this garrison and I order you to abandon the search!" Sergeant Mendoza said at dawn. He was backed up by Corporal Sepúlveda and a bunch of loyal soldiers of the former Spanish Army. The group outnumbered the new recruits of the Mexican Army.

"We have to find the fugitives! They are convicted of murder and have to be hanged at noon as ordered by the alcalde," Armando said.

"About that… I know what alcalde De Soto told me before he died, and, until we find out who that Roberto Malpartida is, we can't convict anybody else for his murder. I'll contact the judge in Monterey to have a second trial. In the meantime, I order you not to waste your time chasing innocent people today."

"You can't order that. The alcalde would never order us to give up the chase. Specially for Zorro, the one who attacked him."

"Zorro didn't hurt the alcalde. The Indian did. And he is already dead, so there is no need to chase him," said Sepúlveda. Mendoza nodded.

"Exactly. And, unfortunately, the alcalde can't give you any orders right now," Mendoza said, amazed of his own firm tone of voice, totally out of character for him as he was usually quite hesitant. Maybe all those blows to his head had made him braver, somehow. Or he was fed up to be battered. "He can't. But, as second in command, I can. If you persist in your insubordination, you will be thrown in jail!"

Sepúlveda and the other loyal soldiers arched around the new recruits with their muskets ready until they gave up and backed off.

ZZZ

"Diego, is it you? Is it really the _real_ you?" Cristina asked, cupping his face with her trembling hand. He took off the mask and got her hand to kiss it tenderly.

"Yes, it is me. I am back."

She had been unconscious all night. When she woke up in the morning she found Zorro asleep on the chair, with his head resting on her bed, over his crossed arms. She had touched his arm, and he had woken up with a jump, startled. He obviously didn't want to fall asleep there, as he was probably afraid the soldiers could pay a visit looking for Diego.

"Are you all right? You are not harmed, are you?"

He shook his head slowly. "No. I am all right. Don't worry. It is Leonardo you should worry about, not me."

She smiled. "What a fool he is, ah?"

"Yes. You shouldn't have fought Roberto Malpartida."

"Who?" She needed a few seconds to realize who he was talking about. "The man who killed De Soto? _That_ is the alcalde?"

"You are lucky to be alive, Cristina. And so am I. Eagle Eye saved me, for the second time. I would always be grateful for that, eternally. He died saving my life."

"And he brought you back from limbo with the peyote."

"Yes. I am sorry I couldn't remember you before."

"Can you remember everything now?"

He wanted to lie, but he couldn't.

"Nearly everything, I think. But some parts are a bit blurry still."

"What parts?"

"Some. But it is not important. I am sure everything will settle and I will remember clearly soon."

She looked at him narrowing her eyes, suspicious, but she didn't say anything else about it.

"What about Felipe, my father, and yours? Did they come back safely?"

"Yes. They are at the cave, hiding. Well, not Felipe; he is resting in his room. I don't think anybody recognized him, so he is not in danger to be arrested."

"Good. I am so glad that improvised rescue plan worked. I couldn't wait any longer for you to wake up, because I didn't know if you would, at all. Now I know I should have waited. How do you do all these things as Zorro all the time, making it look so easy? Because it's not easy. Not at all."

"Hum… Luck? Practice? Natural talent? I don't know." He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "You did well, Leonardo. You got them out safely. Thank you."

He looked at her for a moment, and then leaned again to kiss her lips. She responded eagerly to the kiss, demanding more, and they were soon engaged in passionate foreplay. Until she cried in pain when she moved her leg.

"I would like to, but I don't think you are in the condition to take this any further," he said, standing up, looking down at her with a playful smile.

"Yes, you are right. Maldita sea!"

They both laughed. He kissed her forehead lightly again and walked to the door.

"Rest now, please. Don't get out of bed. I am going to check on the others and I'll bring you breakfast. Be good."

"Yes. Always. Please, come back soon. It is nice to have you around again, Diego."

"It is nice to be back."

"I love you."

"Me too," he said, leaving the room. _But, do I really love her?_ he thought, disturbed, because he didn't remember much about her other than the last few weeks. He was attracted to her, and his damaged version of himself was falling in love with her, but he wasn't there yet. _I think it's better if she never finds out about this. _And then another disturbing thought: the feelings he had felt for Victoria when she hugged him were stronger. He walked quickly to the cave, then. He really didn't want to think about that.

ZZZ

"Are we really going to let that buffoon give us orders, to boss us around? I don't think so," Tomás said, looking at Sergeant Mendoza from the distance.

"I think we should, for the time being," Armando said. "But, what we really need to do is to find that damn treasure and get the hell out of here." All the men agreed.

"Especially if Roberto doesn't make it," Pablo said. "No way I'm staying here otherwise, in this forsaken pueblo to become a farmer. Or worse still, carry on as a Mexican soldier."

"But, what if he _does _make it? His death may be the best thing that could happen to us right now. He got too involved in his role as alcalde of this stupid pueblo. I don't trust him anymore," Tomás said, using words he would never dare to say if Roberto was unharmed and within hearing distance.

"Yes. He was losing it. We may be better on our own. And we'll get a bigger part of the treasure, because no way I will share it with his useless brother if Roberto is not around," said another man. The others laughed, agreeing with him.

"If we find it. Come on, as we are not going to chase the fugitives anymore, let's get on with the search," Armando said.

"And while we are searching, we could try to find that maldito Zorro and teach him a lesson as well. He and his damn sleeping darts!" Tomás said, getting a rumour of approval from the men.

ZZZZZ


	42. Chapter 42 - Old Flame Still Burning

**Chapter 63 – Old Flame Still Burning**

Diego helped his father up the saddle. The old man was covered in bruises and nearly every inch of his body hurt after the beating he had received, and he looked as if he had aged a few years overnight all of a sudden.

"Are you sure you are up to this?" said Diego under the black mask. "Felipe can go to Santa Bárbara instead. It is a long way." He was going to escort his father as Zorro for a short distance on the way to the presidio to make sure the soldiers were not looking for them in that area.

Don Alejandro looked down at his son and grunted in protest.

"Of course I am sure. Felipe can't go on his own because the alcaide won't take his signs seriously. And you can't go either, because you have to stay to take care of them all. And, because you may need Felipe's help here, it is not a good idea that he comes with me all the way to Santa Bárbara to make sure this old crock gets there. I can go on my own. Besides, I know the alcaide. And he will believe me when I tell him we are in danger from that man. Just look at me."

Diego had to agree. He looked so battered that his state should at least spur the alcaide's curiosity, for sure. And now they could tell the authorities who had really killed De Soto and why.

They left the hacienda at a good pace, or at least a fast as Don Alejandro could manage. Earlier on, Zorro had inspected the area surrounding the hacienda to make sure they would not get ambushed. He had encountered no soldiers searching for the fugitives close by, nor could he see any threads on the way. Father and son rode together for nearly twenty miles without any problems, catching up with each other after those few weeks of amnesia. Then, in the early afternoon, Zorro halted Toronado to go back to Los Angeles.

"You'll be on your own from now on, Father. Please, take care."

"Yes, don't worry. But I am quite tired already. I think I will rest a little bit before I continue," said Don Alejandro, dismounting Dulcinea with his eyes wandering to the inviting shadow offered by a large oak in a field not too far away from the road.

"How long do you think it is going to take you to get to Santa Bárbara?" asked Diego, dismounting as well.

"Ah… I don't know. About five or six days to get there and back, or maybe a week? Sorry, Diego, but I don't think I can get there any faster. Not now. Not like this."

"It's all right, don't worry. Take all the time you need, but get there safely, all right?"

"All right, Son. I am not worried now because you are back, Zorro!" he said, grabbing Diego's upper arms, shaking him a little, enthusiastically. "I am sure you'll take care of everything now."

"I hope so." Diego hugged his father and then mounted back on Toronado. "Adiós. I'll see you in a few days then," he said touching the brim of his hat. He gently kicked Toronado's flanks and they headed back to the hacienda De la Vega at a slow canter.

"Come on, Dulcinea. Let's have a little break, shall we?" Don Alejandro said while walking slowly towards the large, solitary tree, pulling from the reins. "I need a siesta, and that looks like a great spot for it." The mare snorted, shaking her head as if agreeing with her master, and she followed him at a lazy pace.

ZZZ

Armando and the other new recruits spent that day searching for the treasure. Roberto's men had covered a large area of land around Los Angeles already, and the most likely location for the old cave would be the De la Vega's land. Now, with Don Alejandro a fugitive from justice and Don Diego impaired, it looked like a great opportunity to roam their land freely while searching for the three signs. They searched for them all morning, avoiding the areas closer to the hacienda's main building. If they had searched there, they could have seen Zorro getting ready for the journey that morning.

At lunch time, they sat by a group of tall pines, hiding from the blazing sun under their shadow.

"We have to find this soon. I want to get out of here as soon as possible," said Tomás.

The others agreed with him, while munching on their food.

"What are we going to do about Roberto?" Pablo said with his mouth full. "He was still alive this morning. I thought he would die overnight, to be honest, but he didn't."

"We have to kill him," Tomás said. "There is no other way. He shouldn't have butchered the other alcalde, or at least he should have killed him instantly. That poor bastard lived long enough to identify him, and now everybody knows his name thanks to that stupid sergeant. Sooner or later this is going to get us all in trouble."

"All right, Tomás. Are you doing it then, as this is your idea?" Armando asked, with a hint of mockery. "Because I don't really want to." No one wanted to admit it, but they were all afraid of that man, even if right now he would be an easy target while he lay unconscious at the infirmary bed.

"The shorter straw wins the pleasure," Tomás said. He collected six long pine needles and cut one of them significantly shorter. He grabbed them all in his fist and offered them to the other men. One by one, they all chose a pine needle, all sighing with relief when they confirmed they hadn't got the short one. When Tomás opened his fist to check the last one, he showed the shortest pine needle in his palm.

"Maldita sea!"

All the other men laughed when he threw it away in bad temper, shouting a stream of colourful curses.

"You did it to yourself, Tomás," said Pablo, in stitches.

ZZZ

When Diego came back home in the late afternoon, the doctor was at the cave checking on Don Francisco. He had already seen the two injured women upstairs.

"Good afternoon, doctor. Is everybody all right?" Diego asked.

"Yes, don't worry Diego. I just wanted to check on them, as I couldn't come last night. Cristina is doing well; she should recover from that wound quite quickly. I think she was very lucky the alcalde's sword only went through her muscles without causing more serious damage."

"Yes, she was. Very lucky, indeed," Diego said. "How are you, Don Francisco?"

"I am alright, thanks. I'll live another day," said Don Francisco, nursing his arm. "And how is that stubborn father of yours? Is he really in good shape to get to Santa Barbara? It is a long journey."

"You know him. He'll get there even if he has to crawl just to prove us wrong. But I think he is planning to take it easy. I left him searching for a place to have a siesta." Don Francisco and the doctor laughed with him. "I don't mind how long it takes him to get there, as long as he does it safely."

"Yes, you are right. He shouldn't push it," said Don Francisco. "Now, if you excuse me, I think I would try to do the same here. I didn't sleep much last night." He lay back on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position to doze.

Diego and the doctor walked a few steps away, towards the stairs, and they stopped at the bottom.

"How is the alcalde? Did you treat him last night? I guess he is dead, isn't he?"

"I treated him last night, yes. But he is not dead. He is still alive, I am afraid," doctor Hernández said, like apologizing for that fact. Diego was shocked. He had really hoped it would not be the case, and that Roberto would be dead already. His worry transformed into irritation instantaneously.

"Why did you save that man, doctor? Why couldn't you let him die? Maldita sea!"

"Diego, I am afraid I am bound by the Hippocratic Oath and the principle of _do not harm_ to my patients. I am sorry, but it is not my responsibility to murder them by negligence. You should have done that yourself if you wanted to, slicing his throat with your sword when you had the chance. Please, don't blame me for this. It's not fair."

"I am sorry, doctor. I shouldn't lash at you. I didn't dispose of the Russian when I had the chance and that was a mistake, as he went on to murder Juan Ortiz. Regrettably, I remember that episode all too clearly, but it is something I would not mind to erase from my memories." Diego shook his head as if that would help to get rid of the image of Juan bleeding in his arms.

"I know you are not a killer, Diego, and that's who you are. This is one of your assets, a good quality to possess. Don't be ashamed of the qualities that make you unique and especial. To have a personal code of honour is not a bad thing. It is not a weakness as you may think, but a sign of strength."

"Honestly, I can't afford to feel the guilt I felt after Victoria's husband died. She has been miserable ever since as a result. It is my fault she is a widow. I really hope I haven't done the same kind of mistake again by allowing this man to live."

"Don't beat yourself about it. The alcalde may still die of his injuries, anyway. He is not out of the woods yet."

"Do you know who that man really is?" Diego asked. The doctor shook his head. "No, you don't, because I haven't told you yet. He is Roberto Malpartida. I remember him now. He is the man who killed alcalde De Soto."

"No! Really?"

"Yes, so maybe we should make an exception in this case and ignore our righteous principles, doctor. I hope my father returns safely soon with the alcaide in Santa Bárbara so Roberto doesn't have time to kill anybody else before he is at the receiving end of the _garrote_."

"I am sorry, Diego. I didn't know."

"Would that have made any difference, doctor?"

Doctor Hernández thought about it for a few seconds. He already knew that man had raped Victoria, killed Eagle Eye, and injured Cristina, and he still had treated him the right way. He shook his head slowly.

"No, it wouldn't make any difference. I would have treated him the same. Sorry, Diego."

"It's all right, doctor. It is not your fault. It is mine. And I think I am going to put it right tonight. Where is he? At the infirmary?"

The doctor nodded.

"Is he guarded?"

"No. He is on his own most of the time, but the guards check on him regularly. Be careful, though."

ZZZ

Upstairs, they found Sergeant Mendoza talking to Doña María Luisa in the parlour.

"Zorro!" Mendoza said when he saw the black clad figure approaching. "Good afternoon, doctor."

"Good afternoon, Sergeant," the doctor said. "How is your head? Feeling better?"

"I am alright, thank you, doctor. I came here to let you know I have taken command of the garrison and my first order was to halt the search for Don Alejandro and Don Francisco. Zorro, tell them they are safe for now, wherever they are hiding. And the same goes for Don Diego. I dispatched two men for Monterey to get a message to the Judge. There will be a new trial, hopefully."

"When was that?" Zorro asked, worried they could bump into his father, as Santa Bárbara was on the way to Monterey and they would use the same road for a while.

"Early this morning, right after dawn. No time to lose," the sergeant said, puffing his chest proudly. Diego relaxed, as that would put the soldiers ahead.

"Well done, sergeant. Now, they are all safe with me. Are you sure they will be all right if they come back to the hacienda?"

"Yes, they are, Zorro. At least for now."

"Well, sergeant, I am afraid I prefer to wait a little bit longer… After all the alcalde could regain consciousness and give you different orders, couldn't he?"

Sergeant Mendoza gulped, nervously. "I guess he could, Zorro. He is still alive, but… I don't think he is going to make it."

Zorro hesitated about telling the sergeant the alcalde's real name, as he had been looking for that man for so long on a personal quest, but he decided against it until Roberto was dead, one way or another.

"Well, then, when he dies, I'll bring them back home," Zorro said, slapping the Sergeant's shoulder. "What about Eagle Eye, the Indian?"

"Some warriors from the Tongva tribe collected his body this morning, Zorro. They knew him. They will bury him in their sacred land, as you asked."

"Thank you Sergeant. I appreciate that very much. But I have to go now. Adiós." He walked out of the front door reluctantly, because what he really wanted to do was to check on Cristina. He walked the long route to the cave outside, where he changed into Diego's clothes. At least he could have Diego in the house now, rather than wearing the mask all the time.

ZZZ

When Victoria found out Cristina was sick in bed, she went to her room to check on her. Of course, she didn't know why she was in bed, and had accepted her excuses about having a terrible, incapacitating, period pain. After the initial polite exchange of words, little by little they had engaged in a long, polite conversation. Among other things, she had asked Cristina's opinion about denouncing the alcalde to a higher authority, and Cristina had said she didn't think it was a good idea at the moment —maybe later. Then, the conversation had drifted slowly to Victoria's marriage to Juan, and her status as a widow, and Victoria opened up to her.

"I can't say I regret my marriage to Juan, not at all. Otherwise, I would be a very bad mother, because I love my son so much. But, that marriage didn't make my life any easier, you know? I thought it would be, away from Zorro, but it wasn't" said Victoria. She paused for a moment, and then she continued, willing to get the next bit out of her chest, at whatever cost. "Don't get cross with me, but I often think everything is Diego's fault. He should have told me he loved me when he had the chance, before you came to this pueblo. The excuse he gave me, that he was afraid of Zorro's reaction, was ridiculous. He would never have harmed him if he had courted me openly."

Cristina closed her eyes in despair. The level of denial of that woman was unbelievable. She felt sorry for her and her circumstances, but at the same time, she had to control herself not to slap her and shake her roughly to get her head out of her own butt. How could she still not see Diego and Zorro were the same person?

"Well… Why didn't you marry Zorro then? Why did you marry Juan if you loved another man?"

"Because Zorro told me I should marry someone else. He suggested Diego, actually, of all people —go figure. And everybody was telling me Zorro wasn't the marrying kind, and that I should look for a husband before it was too late… And then Juan came along and proposed. But, if Diego had told me he loved me…" she mumbled to herself, lost in thought. She blushed when she saw Cristina's expression.

"Sorry. I have to go. Thanks for listening," she said, retreating quickly, feeling Cristina's eyes at her back like burning rods.

ZZZ

Coming out of the room, Victoria bumped into Diego down the corridor.

"Diego! What are you doing here? I thought you were hiding."

"I was. But Sergeant Mendoza said I would be safe here."

"Are you all right now? Have you recovered your memory completely? You are walking normally too, much better than before."

"Yes, I have recovered, Victoria. Mentally and physically. And I remember you now. I am sorry I couldn't remember you before."

"Don't worry. I understand. You didn't remember anybody; I wasn't the only one to be left out." Victoria smiled, and then she blushed when she realized he could probably remember the kiss they shared before his wedding, when he admitted his feelings for her.

"Do you remember _everything_ about us?" she whispered. He held her gaze, feeling the familiar, but inconvenient, butterflies in his stomach.

"Yes, I do," he said, slowly, with her blue eyes still drilling hers, glued to them. Although he didn't remember that particular kiss between them before she married Cristina, as it was part of the blurry period of his memories, he remembered all the other kisses he had shared with her as Zorro, and how he had never stopped loving her completely.

His words had a magnetic effect on her, and she came closer, searching comfort in his arms, the same way she had done with Zorro. When he embraced her, she stood still feeling his warmth for a moment, but then she remembered the awful events and jumped back, feeling unworthy of his touch.

"No. This is so wrong. You should love your wife now," she said, walking quickly to her room, only a couple of doors down that corridor. She got inside and slammed the door behind her, resting with her back against it. Only two days ago she thought she was madly in love with the alcalde. Now she had feelings for Zorro and Diego again. Back to square one. She cursed her fleeting heart, punching her chest repeatedly. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!"

ZZZZZ


	43. Chapter 43 - Unfinished Business

**Chapter 64 – Unfinished Business**

Victoria was right. He should be in love with Cristina, his wife, and not fooling around. The truth was he didn't want to get involved with another woman, not at all. He despised infidelity, but this was something he could not control: Victoria always had a strong effect on him. And it felt good to have her in his arms for the second time. Too good, actually.

Diego came into his marital room to check on Cristina, trying to recover from that brief moment of weakness.

"Diego! What are you doing here as yourself? I thought you were going to be around as Zorro only," Cristina said when she saw him coming in. "The soldiers may take you away if they find you here."

"Sergeant Mendoza came. As the proud _new commander _of the garrison he told the soldiers to leave us alone," he said, chuckling. "There will be a new trial, so Diego is free to roam at the moment. Unfortunately, Roberto is still alive, but unconscious. Zorro may have to do something about it."

"Yes, please, get there and finish him off before he wakes up. He is too great a menace. Please, don't allow him to come back to life."

"Well, it is not so simple, Cristina," Diego complained, frustrated.

"It is dead simple, Diego. You have to kill him. As simple as that. Do you remember what happen with the Russian?"

That accusatory tone stroke an already raw nerve in Diego, bothering him.

"Yes. He killed Victoria's husband."

"Exactly. And you could have prevented that."

That same issue had always been haunting him, or at least until he got amnesia, but now that he had recovered that unsettling memory he tried to justify himself by any means rather than admitting his fault to that offendingly blunt, aggressive, and opinionated woman.

"It is not the same. If I kill him, I may be prosecuted for it, and I may not be so lucky as I was at the Russian's trial, which I remember only vaguely. Roberto is seriously injured and he may still die on his own without my intervention. Otherwise, when my father comes back, Roberto will have to face justice if he is still alive. I am sure he will receive a capital sentence for his crime. Hence, no need to kill him myself."

"He should receive a capital sentence for killing De Soto, yes, of course. The same as your father and mine were going to," she said, bitter. Diego sighed.

"Well, I had enough of this depressing conversation. Are you all right? Is there anything I can bring you?"

"I am all right, thank you. Victoria was here a moment ago, and she got me a drink." Cristina shuffled her body a bit, trying to get more comfortable on the pillows. Diego helped her, repositioning them. "Thank you. You know, it is unbelievable she still hasn't figured out you are Zorro. She had the nerve to say that her life has been a disaster because you didn't propose when you had the chance." She looked directly into his blue eyes, catching his discomfort and guilt.

"Did she?"

"It is a total mystery for me why you never told her you loved her before I came into your life. This could be the argument of a Shakespearean play, you know?"

"Well, stop teasing me. You should be happy I was a chicken and didn't ask her to marry me, or I wouldn't be here with you," he said, leaning forward to kiss her gently, trying to placate her.

"Yes. Good answer. You are safe for now," she said, laughing.

ZZZ

That night, under the protection of the black mask, Diego looked at that defenceless man who lied in bed pale as a ghost. After much deliberation between his common sense and his principles, Zorro had come to the garrison with the intention to kill that man, because he knew it would be the fastest and easiest way to avoid any complications and pain later on, but now, facing him, he knew he could not do it. Not like that. No matter what Cristina or his own common sense would tell him; he still couldn't do it.

Exactly the same thing had happened with the Russian. He could not murder people in cold blood when they were unconscious, no matter how much they deserved to die. He remembered then Doctor Hernández words: _"You are not a killer, Diego, and that's who you are."_

"I'll have my chance, Roberto. Another time, soon, if you live long enough," he murmured, leaving as silently as he had arrived.

ZZZ

Half an hour after Zorro paid a visit to the garrison, Tomás approached Roberto silently as well. The alcalde was alone at the infirmary, still unconscious. He had not woken up yet since he had been injured, but the doctor said he was stable. Initially, everybody thought he would die, including the doctor, but he seemed to hang on to life tenaciously.

Killing the man who lied on the bed was going to be an easy task, but the hand holding the knife was shaking when Tomás reached for Roberto's neck.

With a mere inch left to contact his skin, Roberto opened his eyes, startling Tomás, who moved his hand back, allowing Roberto to catch a glimpse of the knife.

"What are you doing?" he said, grabbing Tomás' wrist with considerable strength for a man who looked more dead than alive. Tomás dropped the knife.

"I was… I was going to shave you! That's all!"

"Shave your arse if you have to, but get away from me! I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, but if you ever come close to me like that, I'll kill you. Is that clear?"

Tomás nodded, gulping. He was so scared of Roberto he didn't try to fight him. Covering Roberto's mouth with one hand while sinking that knife in his heart with the other should have been easy. Instead, he stepped back, frightened, with his eyes transfixed in Roberto's black eyes, which looked like the unnatural blending of the enigmatic dark eyes of a cobra with the lifeless appearance of the great white shark's.

"Get the doctor here at once." He was hurting and having trouble breathing, and wanted to know how bad his wound was.

"Yes, sir. In a minute," Tomás said, rushing out of the infirmary.

ZZZ

Later on that night, Diego was back at the hacienda de la Vega in bed with his wife, cleaning her wound, glad he could be resting with her without the need to wear the black mask. He had planned to stay in the house as Diego and stop pretending he was physically or mentally impaired. After his visit to the garrison, he didn't care anymore if Roberto would wake up or not. If he did, Diego would announce his real name and Sergeant Mendoza would arrest him while the alcaide in Santa Bárbara arrived with his men.

When he finished cleaning Cristina's wound, he paused for a moment to admire her perfect body, as she was naked to allow easy access to her hip.

"I have missed you so much, mi amor. The _new Diego_ wasn't quite the same, you know?" she said, pulling the blanket up to her chin. She was cold, but she could not bother to put her night gown back on, and she hid under the blanket instead. Diego left the materials he had used to clean her wound on the side table, and got under the sheets and blanket as well, by her side.

Careful not to stretch her wound, she turned on her side slowly and then snuggled her naked body against his, with her back on his chest, seeking his warmth. He embraced her, spooning, careful not to touch her wound or make her uncomfortable. He held her hands in his, caressing them gently for a short while, warming them up as they were colder than his. Then he stopped and let go of them. With his hand resting on her shoulder, he reluctantly shifted his middle section back a bit, because the close contact with her warm body had aroused him and he was embarrassed of his growing erection. He knew sexual contact was inappropriate under the circumstances; however, he put his embarrassment to a side because he could not stop himself. He may not fully love that woman yet, not as much as he would like to, but he was certainly attracted to her. He kept caressing her gently, in a game that could only end in frustration for him. But he didn't care, as it felt so good.

"For what I recall only a few nights ago, I think you liked the new Diego just fine," he said, leaving a trail of kisses on her back, down her spine, coming back up to linger at her neck, making her giggle with pleasure.

"Well, that's what I was left to work with."

"Really? Is that so? What a shame you have to put up with that," he whispered at her ear, exploring it slowly and lightly with his tongue. She shivered, and then shrugged her shoulder to get away from him.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't you like it?" he said, coming down to her neck again.

"Yes… and no. Not now. I mean, —Yeeeeessss!" she said when he kissed that particular place behind her ear. With her positive response, he reached for her breast.

"No,no,no,no! No, please! Not those!"

She laughed hysterically, wriggling her upper body to break contact, slapping his hand repeatedly. He carried on fondling her, despite her protests, caressing her nipple until she lay still, moaning with pleasure.

She turned to lie on her back to look at him, smiling with desire while ignoring the pain on her hip.

"Now you'll have to go all the way. You'll have to finish what you started. As you know, that's the _law of the nipple_," she said, giggling like a naughty child.

He didn't have a clue what she meant, as he didn't remember the playful time when they had agreed such law should be implemented: _if he conquered the nipple, he could go all the way._ However, even if he didn't remember that episode, he carried on enthusiastically, so she didn't notice his lapse.

"Yes, my princess. As you wish."

He claimed her mouth, exploring every corner, and she moaned following his tongue, holding his head in her eager hands. While he kissed her, his hand travelled all the way down between her legs. He dipped his finger in, feeling her moist, and she moaned louder. He caressed the spot above and she melted for a while, excited, increasing the speed of her tongue until she pushed him away from her mouth.

"Wait, wait, wait! The law says _you_ have to go _all the way_. Not just me."

"Don't be silly. I can't do that. You are injured, and I don't want to hurt you."

She thought for a moment on the possibilities.

"You won't hurt me if we use the… How did you called it back then? Oh, yes, the _"big belly solution"_, right?" she said, laughing.

"What?"

"You know, what we did in the last months of pregnancy, when I had that massive belly and the only way I could—" She stopped when she saw his guilty expression. "You don't remember that, do you?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I really don't."

"All right, tell me. What can you, and what can you not remember? Don't lie, please."

"Mainly the whole period between being shot at the back and losing my memory the first time, when I banged my head with that tree. All that period of time is a blur. I remember some things clearly, like fighting with the Russian by the ravine, or how I saved you using the whip, and how scared I was you were going to fall. Other memories are really blurry and incomplete, and others that you mention are not there at all. Like your pregnancy. Or when Sofía was born. Or how I met you. Or the first time I kissed you."

"Believe me, I think it would be better if you never, ever, remember that first kiss," she said, laughing at the memory. "It was so awkward."

"I am really sorry, but I can't remember all those things. I hope I will, soon. But, in the meantime, you'll have to fill me in with the details. Tell me, when did I kiss you for the first time? Was it really that bad?"

She giggled, nodding.

"It was awful. We were hiding under the alcalde's desk. I was dressed as Leonardo, and for a few days you thought there was something wrong with you because you were attracted to a man!" she said. She could not stop laughing.

"I see. You are right. Good job I don't remember that."

They both laughed for a few more seconds. Then, there was a moment of silence, when they just looked at each other.

"Do you remember Victoria?"

"Well, yes, of course, because I knew her before that blurry period. But I don't remember much about her during that time either. Only that I fought the Russian at their house in Monterey, and Juan died in my arms. For some reason, I remember how I got all the scars. I remember the fights, but not the good times."

"All right. It is important that you remember the good times then. Take off your night gown."

He did, following orders like a well-trained dog. She grabbed a pillow and placed it on her abdomen.

"Imagine this is my big belly, with a kicking baby inside. I am like a whale and I can't be bothered to move much, so you'll have to do all the work," she said, turning on her side again, with her injured hip on the upper side. "Now, go back to the spooning and you'll know what to do. Don't worry; I'll let you know if it hurts. Oh, and remember, please: withdraw. I don't want to turn this pillow into a real baby. Not tonight."

"At your service, _querida_," he said snuggling against her back once again, not embarrassed about his erection any more.

Taking her that way, making love so gently, was a good glimpse of the _good all times_ he could not remember.

ZZZZZ


	44. Chapter 44 - Tadpoles

**Chapter 65 – Tadpoles**

"Papá, papá, can we go to the pond to get more little frogs?" Sofía asked two days later.

"Now?"

The little girl nodded enthusiastically. She was so happy Diego was again the attentive, loving father she once knew, she could not get enough of his company.

The new Diego had grown very fond of his daughter during the last few weeks, and now that he was back to his former self he was doing an extra effort to compensate Sofía for that long period he had ignored her while he recovered from the blow. Specially because he still could not remember much about the little girl's life previous to the amnesia, and he felt really bad about it.

"Alright then. Have you got your jar ready?" Diego asked with a broad smile lighting up his face.

"Yes," she said, showing him the glass container, shaking it in the air. "Can Alejandro come with us?"

"Yes, of course, if he wants to come."

"I'll ask him." She left at once, shouting his name while running. "Alejandro! Alejandro!"

Victoria came into the room, smiling and trying to act naturally.

"What are these two up to now?"

"We are going tadpole-hunting. Do you want to come? It is a lovely morning. It will be a nice walk to the pond," Diego said.

Victoria was about to accept the offer when she remembered how sore she still was after her ordeal, and how embarrassed she felt in his company.

"That's very tempting Diego, thank you, but I have a headache this morning. If you take the kids with you, that will give me some peace and quiet I could use."

"When are you going back to the tavern? I am really grateful you came to help us over the last few days, but maybe you may want to resume your life now, as the crisis here is over," Diego said. He blushed when he realized his words didn't sound quite right. "Don't get me wrong. I don't mean that you should go, of course. You are more than welcome to stay for as long as you want. Or need," he added raising an eyebrow. He still had the nagging feeling that there was something else going on, something that he should better not ask about. It was odd Victoria didn't seem concerned about her injured lover, not going to visit him at the garrison, avoiding any conversation about him.

Victoria blushed as well. She didn't have any intention to go back to the pueblo just yet. Not until she had confirmation that the alcalde was dead.

"I am in no hurry, Diego. I think I'll wait until your father comes back, if you don't mind. Cristina is also sick, and these two are having such a good time together…"

The children came back, both holding a glass jar.

"Come on, daddy. We are ready!"

"Alright. Let's go," he said, taking them by the hand. The children walked with him, proudly holding their empty jars in their free hand. "I'll see you later, Victoria."

She watched them go from the house, waving to them enthusiastically. Then, she turned away from the window and sighed deeply. No. She wasn't ready to go back to the pueblo. Not at all. But she wasn't ready to stay there so close to Diego either. She felt tears spilling out, sliding down her cheeks. Before anybody could see her crying, she rushed to her room for another round of self-pity and despair.

ZZZ

"How is he?" Don Miguel asked to Armando when he came to the hacienda that morning.

"He is fully awake now. The doctor thinks it is a miracle he is recovering so well."

Don Miguel sighed, relieved. He knew his status in the gang would certainly change if his brother died, as the rest of the thugs would not take him seriously without him. He knew he would face an uncertain future, and he actually feared for his life if Roberto ceased to be around.

"We need to find that cave as soon as possible," Armando said. "It is only a matter of time before we are discovered. We are covering the areas still unsearched at De la Vega and Blasco haciendas. We need all the men available."

Roberto had got five of his men as new recruits at the garrison, but another group were still at Don Miguel's pretending to be ranch hands, still searching for the treasure, combing the landscape in the area every day.

"Alright. Tell them to concentrate their efforts at those haciendas today, while their owners are fugitives from justice. Good idea," Don Miguel said.

"Actually, they are not fugitives anymore. That fool, Mendoza, ordered the soldiers to stop the search and leave them alone. But they are still hiding, I guess. Nobody has seen them since they escaped from jail. Probably they are with that Zorro, the masked man who attacked Roberto."

"Well, don't worry about them, and take care of my brother. I would like to see him, but it may not be appropriate. It could look suspicious."

"Other citizens visited already. Nobody would think twice about it if you show up to check on him."

"Alright then. I will go to the garrison today. Good luck with the search. I hope you find that damn cave soon," said Don Miguel, leaving Armando to organize the search party.

ZZZ

The closest pond to the hacienda was small and shallow, and had dried up. The children were disappointed, so Diego considered taking them further away to a larger one. He had been alert the previous day in case Zorro was needed, but nothing had happened, and he could do with a longer walk to unwind and relax.

"Can we go to the laguna?" Sofía asked, as if she could read his thoughts.

"I was thinking about that, but it may be a little bit too far away for you."

At the slow pace dictated by those four little legs, it would certainly take them at least an hour to get there, and another hour and a half to return to the hacienda, just in time for lunch.

"No. We were there before. Not far," Sofía said. "Can we go, please, papá?"

"We rode there on Esperanza, remember? It is not the same if we go walking."

"I can walk far," said Alejandro confidently. "I'll carry Sofía if she's tired. Please, can we go?"

Diego had to laugh at the little boy's gallantry.

"All right. Let's go. Give me the jars; I'll carry them for you so you can pick some pretty flowers for your mothers."

They handed over the bottles and then ran ahead laughing, holding hands.

"Don't run! You'll get tired too soon!"

They didn't stop. Alejandro shouted something back, but the only word Diego could make out was "_adventure_".

ZZZ

Diego was so amused by the endless energy of the two little friends and the imagination of their non-stop chatter, that he didn't pay much attention to his surroundings. They followed a small path along sloped fields, sometimes climbing over small hills. When they went over the last one, just before reaching the laguna, they encountered a group of soldiers close to it.

Diego blamed himself for being such a fool, bumping into those men without realizing they were there until it was too late to avoid them. They had spotted them, so he decided to act naturally. He handed over the jars and held the kid's free hands tightly while walking down the hill.

"Good morning," said Diego when they reached the group of men.

"Good morning, Don Diego," said Tomás, swaggering close to the trio. "I see you have recovered nicely. You are walking much better now." He stopped right in front of Diego, defiant with his thumbs tucked in his belt, with his right hand close to his pistol.

"I have some days better than others," Diego said shrugging his shoulders casually.

"You were crying your lungs out in that Indian tent only a few days ago. I heard you."

"I had a nasty high fever. I was sick and delirious, but I am healed now."

"Are you?" said Tomás, leaning closer. "Have you recovered your memory then?"

"No, I am afraid not. But I can move my hand and my leg much better," Diego said with an innocent smile on his face. He quickly glanced behind that soldier, and he didn't like what he saw. Not all the men in that group were soldiers. Some looked like ranch hands, men he hadn't seen before. Some of them carried shovels and other tools, and it was obvious they were looking for something in that area. Something related to that map, probably. Diego focused his attention back at the soldier in front of him, and carried on playing the fool.

"What are you doing here? Did you come to collect tadpoles as well?"

Tomás laughed. He looked back at his comrades. "Tadpoles, he said!" They all laughed with him. Then he looked straight back at Diego, sniggering. "Yes. Big, shiny ones, of many colours."

"Come on papá, I want some shiny big ones!" Sofía said, pulling Diego's hand impatiently.

"You go ahead, children, while I talk to your father here," Tomás said.

When they got free of Diego's grip to walk to the laguna he tried to follow them, but Tomás held his sleeve.

"Let them go. They don't need you. Pablo can look after them so they don't get _harmed_."

That veiled threat made Diego's blood boil. One of the soldiers followed the kids and another two came closer, surrounding him.

Diego shook Tomás hand off his arm. The charade was over.

"You have no business here. You shouldn't be at this hacienda."

"We are on tracking manoeuvres," Armando said, placing a hand on Tomás's chest so he would stand back. Armando realized Diego was looking at the ranch hands. "And these men are trying military life before they decide to join the Mexican Army. That's why they don't have their uniform yet."

"What are you tracking?"

"Although we have orders not to arrest the men that escaped from jail, we are tracking down those fugitives. As you know, that includes your father. And you should be on that list as well. But luckily for you, we have orders not to arrest you either."

"Not yet," said Tomás. "But I am sure we will. Soon."

"Well, in that case, if you are not going to arrest me, let me take the children back to the hacienda. And get the hell out of my property!"

"That's not the right attitude," Tomás said, shaking his head. "After all, no one has been harmed… not yet." He looked towards the children, and Diego had to make a great effort to refrain himself from punching that hideous smile off the soldier's face.

He walked the short distance to the laguna feeling the amused soldier's eyes at his back.

"_Venga,_ _niños_, hurry up. It is late. We have to go. Have you got enough already?"

"Yes, daddy. I have some big ones, but they are not shining," Sofía said, showing him the jar, a bit disappointed because she had imagined the little creatures would be bright-coloured, dashing blobs of light that would look like gems in her jar.

"It doesn't matter. Come on." He grabbed their hands again and walked back along the path, to walk past the group of soldiers.

"_Hasta luego_, Don Diego," Tomás said, sniggering.

"_Adiós_," he answered back sharply, ignoring their laughs.

ZZZ

At the infirmary, Doctor Hernández had finished cleaning the alcalde's wounds and was replacing the dressings.

"Are you done?" Roberto asked, restless, eager to move.

The doctor could not believe how quickly that man was recovering. He was amazed by his patient's strength; not only the alcalde had survived being shot through the chest with an arrow, he was now trying to get out of bed only three days after he was injured.

"What are you doing? You shouldn't get up! It's too soon; you need to rest."

"Watch me," Roberto said like a naughty child, setting his feet on the ground defiantly. "I can't be in bed all day today. I rested yesterday. But I have too many things to do. Just help me up and support this arm in the sling a bit better, please. It is too loose. And help me to get dressed."

The doctor did as he was told, and then watched the alcalde walk slowly toward his office. He was staggering, leaning on the walls for support, but he still had enough strength to shout orders to the soldiers along the way.

"Unbelievable," the doctor muttered while shaking his head. _I better tell Diego the alcalde is up and about already_.

ZZZ

Step by step, Roberto finally reached his office. He rested for a few seconds leaning against the door frame, panting heavily with the effort. A few more meters and he could rest on his chair, by the desk. He gritted his teeth and pressed on, slumping on the chair when he got there.

He knew he shouldn't be out of bed yet, but since he had caught Tomás trying to kill him he had to make the men believe he would recover quickly. He had felt too vulnerable all the previous day, drifting in and out of consciousness and sleeping most of the time. Funnily enough, he knew the only soldier he could trust, the only one who would not try to kill him while he was an easy target, was Sergeant Mendoza.

Twenty minutes later, Corporal Sepúlveda walked inside the office, and stood hesitantly by the door.

"Alcalde, Don Miguel is here to see you."

"Let him in. And leave us alone."

"Sí, mi alcalde."

Don Miguel stepped into the office. He was amazed to find his brother sitting at his desk already, although he didn't look too well. He was sweating, and breathing heavily like a tired old dog, with his face pale as a sheet of paper.

"How come you are already up? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"You are right, I should," Roberto said, smiling lightly. "Where are the men? None of our idiots are around today, not in the garrison. Not even Armando."

"Armando came by this morning. They are all searching for the cave. We don't have much time, apparently. Mendoza sent a couple of soldiers to Monterey to get the judge for a new trial."

"What?" Roberto's face wasn't pale anymore; it was getting progressively coloured with the anger. "Don Alejandro and Don Francisco. Where are they? I thought they would be dead by now. They were supposed to be executed yesterday, as was Diego de la Vega."

"Nobody knows where they are. And Sergeant Mendoza ordered not to arrest the fugitives until the time for a new trial."

"What?" Roberto stood up suddenly. "That fool! How dare he —?" His legs gave way and he collapsed back on the chair, gasping for air like a fish out of water. "_Mierda!_ I can't do this!"

"Go back to bed. Don't push it. We all thought you were going to die. It is too soon to be up. You are only human, after all."

"You don't understand. I am afraid Tomás may try to kill me again, or maybe another one of them bastards."

"Did he try to kill you? When? How?" Don Miguel was wondering how it was possible that Roberto, in his condition, could be alive if someone was really trying to kill him.

"Two nights ago. That _cabrón_ came up with a knife. I woke up and scared him enough so he didn't even try to stab me. Luckily for me, they fear me too much. They are a bunch of cowards."

"I don't blame them! They know you all too well."

"And I am afraid of Zorro. I know now: he can be no other than Diego de la Vega. The man I fought had studied with the same fencing master who trained me in Madrid. And the damned Indian who shot me with the arrow was at his hacienda, guarding him in a tent. Diego looked possessed then, struggling on the floor, shouting like a crazy, delirious man. But, possessed or not, it has to be him. He is Zorro. I am sure."

"Then, he must know who you really are. Why is he not saying anything?"

"I don't know. Maybe he had really lost his memory and he can't remember me, but I don't think he is physically impaired at all. He is pretending for some reason, just like me."

"So, what's the plan?"

"He has to go, one way or another. Before he remembers and opens his big mouth."

ZZZZZ


	45. Chapter 45 - Turning the Tables

**Chapter 66 – Turning the tables**

"Help me to get to my quarters," Roberto said. "I don't want to go back to the infirmary at the garrison." His brother helped him up, and then walked with him supporting most of his weight on his shoulder. When they got there, Roberto collapsed on his bed.

"Are you sure you want to stay here by yourself?"

"Yes. Better to be on my own than fearing someone is coming at me with a knife," Roberto said while breathing heavily after the strenuous effort. Then he pointed at a chest of drawers with his good arm. "There are a couple of primed pistols on the top drawer. Hand them to me, just in case."

Don Miguel got the pistols, which Roberto hid under his pillow and blanket.

"Thank you. Now, I only need to rest a little before I confront that moron," Roberto said with a faltering, exhausted voice.

"Who?"

"Mendoza."

"Of course, yes. _That_ moron." Don Miguel pulled up the blanket to cover his sleepy brother up to his chin, tucking him as a loving mother would do. "I have to go. I'll come back tomorrow. Take care now, and rest so you can get better soon."

Roberto mumbled something unintelligible before he fell asleep.

"Please, Roberto, don't leave me stranded here in California in this mess on my own. Please," he whispered before he came out to return to his hacienda.

ZZZ

"Diego, that man is _not_ a man. He is something else. He is up!" Doctor Hernández whispered at the library, after making sure nobody was listening to their conversation.

"What do you mean _he is up_? That man was supposed to be dying!"

"Well, he is not. Eagle Eye insisted that man was evil, but I didn't know that the alcalde could be the Devil himself. It is certainly not normal to be nearly dead with a mortal wound, and only three days later walk about as if nothing had ever happened."

"You can't be serious. He cannot possibly we up already."

"I saw him walking to his office unaided this morning, Diego. Of course I am serious."

"Then maybe Zorro should pay him a visit again."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Something. I saw a group of soldiers by the laguna this morning. They had some men with them, without uniforms; men I haven't seen before. They had tools, and they were obviously looking for something. One of the soldiers made some remarks about keeping the children _unharmed._ I can't sit idle anymore while all this mystery unfolds, while everybody is under threat, including my daughter."

"Be careful, whatever you decide to do. I'm sorry I have contributed to this situation. Maybe you were right and I shouldn't have treated him."

"It is not your fault, doctor. This only proves how good a physician you are."

"How is Cristina today?" Doctor Hernández said to change the uncomfortable subject.

"She is doing very well. She is also up trying to use her leg a little. Considering the amount of blood she has lost, she is recovering quite quickly."

"I am sure that's nothing comparing to when she was in labour."

"What happened then? That's one of the things I can't remember. When Sofía was born."

"You don't remember that?"

"No."

"Cristina nearly died then. There were complications during labour. Her placenta was abnormally placed and ripped up. She was lucky to survive that, only thanks to you."

"I didn't know. Gosh, there are so many things I still can't remember from that period!"

The doctor cleared his throat then, uneasy.

"Do you remember the conversation we had after that?"

Diego stared blankly at him, shaking his head.

"Maybe I should have reminded you about this a while ago. She should not get pregnant again under any circumstances. She would probably die. Unfortunately, her womb was also damaged, and it would be too risky."

"What are you trying to say, exactly?" Diego asked, although he had a pretty good idea.

"I mean, to put it bluntly, that you shouldn't have sex to avoid the risk. That would be the easiest way. That's what I am saying."

"And Cristina knows that…"

"Yes, of course." The doctor watched Diego's expression change. He combed his dark hair back a couple of times, but he didn't say anything. "She didn't tell you, did she?"

Diego shook his head slowly. "No. And I hope it's not too late."

Doctor Hernández took his right hand to his face for a moment and sighed, before he continued.

"Well. Now you know. The rest is up to you."

ZZZ

Corporal Sepúlveda told Sergeant Mendoza the alcalde was up. The sergeant had been looking for him for a while, puzzled because he could not find him. He wasn't back at the infirmary, and he wasn't at his office either.

_Where can he be? Oh, his quarters, maybe. But he hasn't used them for a while. Sure he hasn't gone to his house in his condition! Although, nothing could surprise me about this man anymore._ Mendoza went to the alcalde's private room and knocked softly at the door, coming inside when he had no answer. He found the alcalde deeply asleep in his bed.

"Sorry, alcalde. I'll come back later," he whispered, leaving the room on tiptoes, somehow relieved. He didn't really want to have any conversation with that man, fearing what his reaction would be about him taking command of the garrison.

ZZZ

"You lied to me! You used me! How could you behave like that?"

After the conversation with the doctor, Diego had confronted Cristina in their room at the first chance he had, but she didn't looked too concerned about the issue, trying to dismiss him lightly.

"Well, I don't know why you are making such a big fuss about this. As far as I know, you seem to enjoy having sex with me," she said, coming out of bed to face him up, standing in her nightgown. "Don't you?"

"Yes, of course, but that is beside the point! You already have a daughter to take care of. This is so irresponsible! You didn't tell me your life would be at risk if you became pregnant again. What would your parents think of me if that had happened? I know what: that I am an egocentric, careless, heartless man that would put his own pleasure over the well-being of his wife. And that is not the case! And you didn't give me a choice!"

"I didn't lie to you. Maybe that was an omission, but I didn't lie. You can say I lied about all the other things you can't remember, because I can't go on about telling you all the little details of our lives that you can't remember!" Cristina started crying, angry at herself for showing weakness again, but she couldn't help it.

"Diego, what is so awful about our relationship that you can't remember it, not even after taking the drug Eagle Eye gave you? Why is that? What is bothering you? Is it because in your heart of hearts you want to be with Victoria, and you have erased me from you memory so you can fulfill your dream?"

Diego shook his head, stressed. He had asked himself that same question many times over the last few days, since he had partially recovered his memory.

"I don't know why I can't remember you! And it's not my fault!"

"Well, it is not my fault, either! So, about this matter: yes, I took advantage. Only because before, even if you tried, we couldn't have sex because you were so worried about me getting pregnant."

"What do you mean, _even if I tried_?" Diego asked, tilting his head, curious.

"What do you think I mean with that?" Cristina said, placing her hands at her hips. "Ouch!" She lifted her hand, as it had landed on her wound inadvertently, and then she left it hang, slapping her thigh in frustration while wiping off her tears with her other hand.

Diego flushed red, thinking on the possible answer, embarrassed. But, of course, even if _that_ actually had happened, he could not remember it.

"Yes, _that._ You couldn't… you know…" she said, pointing at his privates. "However, during the past few weeks, because you didn't know there was a potential problem, that took away all that irrational worry you had and you relaxed. Don't you think I made you a favour? Stop blaming me for everything you can't control, please. I am sick of that!"

Diego walked to the window and took a brief moment to calm down before he turned around to face her again.

"I am sorry. You are right. And, although I am so upset, I shouldn't be making the issue about me. I am really sorry you can't have more children, I really am.

"It's all right."

"Forgive me. It is my fault. Everything is my fault," he apologized, taking a hand to his forehead in shame.

"What are you talking about? How can it be your fault that I had complications at childbirth?"

He didn't answer. He kept his head low, with his eyes wandering all over the floor, unable to look back at her. He still had to tell her about his encounter with the soldiers, and their veiled threats to the children, and how he would have to sort out the situation with Roberto, as it was now unlikely he would go away on his own.

"And, by the way, you save my life then."

"Did I? How?" Diego asked, lifting his head, finally looking back at her.

"With a blood transfusion."

"With _what_?"

"I lost a lot of blood giving birth to Sofía. You came up with a device to transfer some of your blood into my veins."

"Did I? How?" he repeated, marvelled.

"I don't know how! I was unconscious, you fool," she said, laughing. "Ask the doctor. He was quite impressed it worked so well."

He grabbed her arm and caressed the inner side, running his hand from the elbow to the wrist, which he kissed gently.

"So, you have my blood running through your veins now."

"Yes, I do. Maybe the mixture got me a little bit too feisty, to the suicidal point to face that killer on my own. I don't know. What do you think?"

Diego's face got sombre immediately at the mention of Roberto.

"That I have to deal with him as soon as possible. Doctor Hernández told me he is awake and out of bed already."

"No, don't reveal yourself, and carry on with the charade. Wait for the Alcaide in Santa Barbara. You missed your chance to dispatch him silently. Don't do anything foolish now. I did that already, and look at the result," she said, pointing to her healing injury. "Spilled _your_ blood unnecessarily. You know I said before I would die for you, but know I'm having second thoughts… It hurts."

"I am sorry, Cristina, but I have to. Nobody will be safe until he is gone for good," said Diego, gently stroking her face.

"Promise you will be careful, then."

"I will. I promise."

ZZZ

In the early evening, Roberto woke up feeling hungry. He drank a glass of water and, realizing nobody was going to bring him any food to his quarters, he got out of bed to order some. Then he remembered.

_Mendoza. I still have to deal with him_.

When he got out to the patio he saw the men conveniently assembled there. Sergeant Mendoza, surrounded by a large group of soldiers, seemed to be confronting Armando and his men about something, arguing loudly.

"I haven't got any different orders yet, so we will continue to…"

"MENDOZA!"

They all looked in the direction of that powerful voice. The alcalde was looking at the group, fuming. Everybody was startled, as they were all afraid of that man, even in his current condition, more dead than living. One by one, all the soldiers of the former Spanish Army that initially had supported Mendoza backed off and moved away from him. All except Corporal Sepúlveda, who stood by the sergeant's side.

Sepúlveda swallowed hard when the alcalde, staggering with his right arm in a sling, approached them slowly. The alcalde wore and ill-fitted white shirt over the sling, loose at the waist, untucked over his trousers. His dark eyes glinted with such grit and determination, it looked like he could summon supernatural powers to recover from his injuries and release hell upon whoever stood on his way.

"You, stupid fools! Why did you call out the search for the fugitives, Sergeant? I want them found, and I want them in my jail today! Including Diego de la Vega! Especially Diego de la Vega!" he barked at them. "In the meantime, you'll wait for their arrival in a cell, awaiting your own punishment for this insubordination, you clowns!"

"Pero, mi alcalde…" Mendoza babbled.

"Take them away! Now!"

Tomás wasted no time to take charge, pushing the stupefied pair towards the jail with his musket.

"You heard the alcalde. Come on. Walk!"

"Armando, bring some food to my quarters. I am starving," Roberto said, turning to go back to his bed, as he was unsure how long he could keep up standing. He was feeling very weak again, but he didn't want them to notice. "And start searching for the fugitives as soon as possible. Do what you need to do to find them," he added along the way back.

"Sí, alcalde. Enseguida," Armando said, watching him go. He crossed gazes with the others, unbelieving how that man was back to life so quickly. _"How?"_ he whispered with his palms up. The others shrugged their shoulders. _"Never mind. Let's do as he said." _Then he ordered loudly: "Find Diego de la Vega, and the others! What are you waiting for?"

ZZZ

That evening, Victoria found Cristina sitting on a comfy armchair at the library. She had a sombre, troubled face.

"Are you alright? Are you still feeling sick?"

"I am fine," she answered back sharply, "but, even if there is something wrong with me, it is none of your business."

That kind of answer would have gotten her ballistic in the past, but as she still felt grateful to Cristina, Victoria let it go and didn't snap back. Instead, she took a seat in front of her nemesis and watched her in silence.

"Is it about Diego? I heard you arguing before," she tried then, sympathetically.

"You shouldn't be listening to private conversations. You are a guest here. Don't abuse it."

"I don't mean to pry. But you were too loud, and I couldn't help but hearing some of your words, even if I didn't want to."

"Gosh. You don't know how much I hate you sometimes," Cristina said dragging her words, with a glint in her eyes that matched her statement.

"I am sorry, Cristina. I know you are cross because he has recovered his memory and now he can remember nearly everything but you and your daughter. But I am glad he remembers me, the _former _me, before I got married, because I don't recognize myself anymore!" Victoria left the room to avoid getting into a fight, crying again, with a mix of sadness, frustration and anger.

Cristina didn't follow her to apologize because she could not fight her own tears, and she gave in to her own despair. That irritating woman was right. Diego remembered Victoria again, but he still didn't remember her. And now he was gone to face that son of a bitch one more time.

She covered her face with her hands while sobbing. However, she could not indulge in crying for more than a couple of minutes, because right then there was a loud knock at the front door.

"Open the door to the Mexican Army!"

Startled, Cristina wiped off all her tears with a fast move, and then walked slowly to the door, limping. _And now what?_

The alcalde's secretary was at the door with a group of soldiers.

"Buenas noches, señora. We come to arrest your husband Diego de la Vega, his father Don Alejandro, and his father-in-law Don Francisco."

"They are not here."

"Where are they then?"

"I don't know, but not here."

"Search the house! Thoroughly!" he ordered to his men.

"I am telling you they are not here!" Cristina complained.

"So you say. Please, sit down quietly and don't be a nuisance while we search the house or I will have to arrest you as well."

Cristina sighed, rolling her eyes, and carefully sat down in a chair by the entrance, fuming when she saw the soldiers trashing the place while carelessly going about as bulls in a china shop.

"Don't wake the children up," she said weakly, knowing that would be impossible.

One by one, her mother, Victoria, the sleepy children and Felipe gathered at the entrance with her, as well as some of the servants. Sofía climbed up to her mother's lap seeking comfort.

"What's going on, Cristina? Why are they here again?" Doña María Luisa asked.

"They are looking for them. The alcalde must have given the soldiers new orders, because Mendoza wanted a new trial."

"_Where is Diego?"_ Felipe signed. Cristina looked at him, shrugging her shoulders, and then nodded subtly when the youngster made a little _"Z"_ sign with his index finger that nobody else saw.

"However, none of them are here, so we have nothing to worry about," Cristina said, trying to sound confident, kissing her sleepy daughter's head. _If only_.

ZZZZZ


	46. Chapter 46 - The Flying Fox

**Chapter 67 – The Flying Fox**

Zorro climbed up to the alcalde's office roof and from that vantage point he then looked down at the soldiers in the garrison. It was dark already, but early in the night, and there was still activity in the patio. Zorro tried to locate Sergeant Mendoza to pass him on the news about the alcalde's true identity, but he could not see him, nor could he spot Corporal Sepúlveda. Unaware they were both locked up in jail, Zorro lay down on the roof tiles, immobile, while waiting for the soldiers to retire. It looked like this time he had come to the pueblo too early to move about undetected.

It took more than an hour before Zorro was able to climb down to get to the infirmary. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do once he would get face to face with the alcalde, but hopefully Roberto would be able to defend himself, or at least try to, so he could deal with him without much remorse.

Zorro opened the door and came inside quietly, ready for action with his sabre on hand, but the bed Roberto had occupied before was now empty. He looked around the silent room, but all the beds were unoccupied, as they were most of the times.

_Of course he is not here. After all, he is feeling better. He must be at his quarters now._

Zorro sheathed his sabre and came out of the infirmary to climb back up to the roof, getting into the office through the opening at the ceiling. From there, he walked through a short corridor and climbed up the stairs at the end of it to get to the alcalde's solitary bedroom on the first floor. Nobody was guarding the door, so he opened it slowly to come into the small room.

ZZZ

"What are we going to do now, Sergeant?" Sepúlveda asked, pacing about inside the cell.

"I don't know!" Mendoza wailed. "This is happening because I took action. I should have waited for his orders instead. Madre de Dios!"

"No, you did well. It was a good idea to send Martínez and Sánchez to Monterey. Everything will get sorted when they come back with the judge. We just have to hang on."

"Do you think so?"

Sepúlveda nodded enthusiastically, willing to believe his own words.

"Thank you for staying by my side. All the others backed off."

"Yes, they did. _Cobardes_!"

"We could all have stayed together and challenge the alcalde instead. He couldn't court-martial everybody at the same time, could he?"

"No, but it is late for that now."

"I hope Zorro comes to the rescue soon."

"Yes. Me too, Sergeant. Me too."

ZZZ

Roberto could breathe a bit better now. He was still sore and aching on his chest, but so worn-out and tired he could do with a good night resting. However, he could not sleep because he had the nagging feeling something was going to happen that night, and he had to stay alert. He kept a small candle burning at the bedside table, with a tiny flame, only bright enough to create a semi-darkness that would allow him to see someone coming in.

Inevitably, after a while patiently waiting for something to happen, he was starting to doze off when he heard the door creaking slightly. Snapping bright alert again, he looked at the door, ready to get one of his pistols out. A black figure came into the room cautiously. He stood by the door, taking a few seconds to get used to the different kind of darkness inside.

"Buenas noches, De la Vega. Coming on a social visit?" Roberto said. The intruder looked startled for a moment, but then he answered quickly.

"Of course. How are you, alcalde? Feeling better already, I believe."

"Diego, I know it is you. So, stop pretending, will you? Who else could have studied with Sir Edmund Kendall? Only you could be under that mask. Take it off, and talk to me face to face, you coward."

"I am not Diego de la Vega," Zorro said, laughing that notion off. "However, if you want me to lift my mask, please, take off yours first, _Gabriel_."

Zorro advanced a few steps towards Roberto, with his right hand at the hilt, about to unsheathe his sword, but he stopped in his tracks when the injured man suddenly produced a gun from under his pillow.

"Yes, you know perfectly well who I am, Diego. Shame you won't tell anybody else."

ZZZ

"Could you stop breaking all our fragile belongings?" Cristina said, snatching an expensive, decorative plate from a clumsy soldier's hands before he would smash it on the floor into a thousand pieces. "Do you really have to empty all the contents of our cupboards and drawers to find out if my husband is hiding in there? He is quite tall, you know? He won't fit in a blooming drawer!"

"Señora, be careful," said Tomás coming closer. "You heard what my superior said: _be quiet, and_ _don't be a nuisance._"

"If you have finished searching the children's room, and that of course includes breaking all their toys and marking all the corners with your urine, I would like to get them back to bed, if you don't mind."

"Be my guest," Tomás said, laughing at the notion of the soldiers marking the territory as strayed dogs.

"Come on, Sofía, Alejandro, let's go back to bed. Say goodnight to these very nice gentlemen first, which I am sure are going to leave the house pretty soon, and I'll tell you a story." She was now making a great effort to walk straight, as her hip was hurting more with every step, but she didn't want to give up.

"Goodnight, nice man," the little girl said, taking her mother's hand.

"Buenas noches, pretty girl," Tomás answered back. "You'll grow up one day into a delicious young woman," he added, smacking his lips, making Cristina heave in disgust.

"I'll take them, don't worry," Doña María Luisa said, coming to her daughter's side quickly. "Come on, Alejandro."

"No, I am taking them," Cristina said, but her mother ignored her, taking Sofía's hand. _"What are you doing?"_ she whispered.

"_You are limping. And bleeding. Sit down, please,"_ Doña María Luisa whispered back into her ear.

Cristina looked down at her dress. Her mother was right. She had a fresh blood stain over her hip. She placed a hand over the spot to cover it, and talked to her daughter: "Go with grandma. She knows wonderful stories! Goodnight, sweetie."

"Buenas noches, mamá."

Cristina sat down on her chair at the parlour again, beside Felipe, still covering the stain with her hand.

_"Are you all right?"_ he signed.

"Yes, don't worry. I only need to rest a bit."

Victoria came back from the kitchen with a glass of warm milk she had prepared for each kid.

"Where are they?"

"My mother took them to bed to tell them a story, while these clowns keep ripping up the place."

"Your mother is such a good _abuela._ I wish Alejandro could have one as well."

"Don't worry, they can share my mother. She would be the happiest woman in the world if she could have more grandchildren, but I cannot provide them," Cristina said, bitter. "Take the milk to their room, will you? Thank you."

After Victoria left, she whispered to Felipe: "I need to rest, yes, but also change my clothes." She showed him the stain and Felipe nodded, understanding.

_"I'll help you to hide that. I'll stay by your side, so they can't see it,"_ he signed.

"Thank you, Felipe. You are the best," she said, with a hand on his knee.

ZZZ

Zorro didn't have time to use his whip to snatch that weapon, so he dropped to the ground quickly in a desperate attempt to avoid the incoming bullet, which wheezed over his back, not touching him by an inch. He stood up quickly again, only to be hit on the face when Roberto threw the unloaded gun at him. Dazed, he saw Roberto reaching for another pistol, and with nowhere to hide, he then instinctively ran to the window and jumped through it without much thinking, forgetting he wasn't on the ground floor this time, crashing against the glass with his elbows while trying to protect his head from the impact. The bullet grazed his left flank before he fell out into the void from the first floor. He hit the ground below quite hard, like a dead weight. Then he stood up with some difficulty, limping, with a hand pressing at his injured flank, and whistled for Toronado, feeling out of breath. He had lost his hat on the fall, and while he picked it up from the ground the black stallion came quickly to take him to safety. Zorro climbed up to the saddle and they ran away to the end of the pueblo just in time to avoid the soldiers who had gathered outside, alerted by the gunshots and the noise of the shattered glass.

"Chase him!" Roberto ordered from his broken window to the soldiers in the street. But he knew it was pointless. By the time the inept soldiers would be ready on their horses, Zorro would probably be half-way to his hiding place.

ZZZ

"Diego! Thank God you are back! Are you all right?" Don Francisco said, approaching the black figure when he came into the cave. Toronado walked close to his stall and stopped by its side, neighing softly, bobbing his head as if urging his rider to jump off the saddle.

"What's wrong Don Francisco?" Diego said, dismounting the black horse slowly. His whole body ached after the fall, and he was sure he would be covered in nasty, purple bruises the next day, but at least he didn't have any broken bones. Wearily, he took the hat and the mask off and placed them on the clothes rack.

"The soldiers are here. They are looking for us. I was afraid they might see you on your way back."

"I didn't see any soldiers."

Diego unfastened the girth and took off the saddle, grunting when he placed the heavy item on the saddle rack.

"Are you sure you are all right?"

"Actually, no, I am not. Cristina won't be happy about this, but I was hit. Again."

"Where? Let me see."

Diego took off his black shirt and showed him his left flank.

"You'll live. It is just a nip on the skin and muscle, don't worry."

"Yes, I knew it was quite superficial, but still… another hit and miss."

"But this area here looks quite bruised. Are your ribs broken?" Don Francisco asked, touching the sore spot above the open wound, making Diego hiss in pain.

"No, I don't think so. But I hit the ground like a brick when I threw myself from the window at the first floor."

"You are a lucky man, Diego. You should have died so many times already that I have lost count."

"I guess." Diego walked to the secret entrance to the fireplace. "What's going on? And, what are we going to do?" he said, resting his forearm on the wall while he looked though the spy hole. He felt pain in that spot, only realizing then he had a small piece of glass stuck on the flesh. He walked back to the table, close to the candle light, hissing when he pulled the glass out. He then reached for a clean cloth to wipe out the trickle of blood running down his arm.

"I was hoping for them to go away soon, because Felipe hasn't got me dinner yet and I am starving," Don Francisco joked.

"Yeah. I mean, apart from eating," Diego said, trying to laugh at the joke, but he didn't have the energy.

"No idea. I am just praying your father gets back here with the alcaide soon, so they can sort out this mess. What happened to the alcalde, by the way? Did you finally dispatch him back to hell?"

"No. I couldn't. He was ready to defend himself from a surprise attack. He is the one who shot me. Twice. The second bullet hit me while I was flying through that window. But, as you said, I am a lucky man."

"Indeed. You are."

Diego lifted the cloth, and satisfied because the wound on his arm wasn't bleeding anymore, he then pressed lightly with the same cloth on the gunshot wound on his flank, which was still oozing a bit.

"That wound is not serious, but you could do with a couple of stitches."

"Felipe can help me with that later, when the soldiers are gone. Now, I am tired, Don Francisco. If you don't mind, I'll rest for a moment in your bed while we wait for the soldiers to leave."

"Yes, of course, lie down. You look a bit pale, actually. Don't worry about me; I am feeling much better. I think the bone has started to heal, because it is not so painful anymore."

"That's very good news." Diego felt strangely light-headed and tired, and his left flank ached with a dull kind of pain. He lay down, and before he could think on the implications of his symptoms, he fell into a deep sleep.

ZZZ

"What do you mean he fell off a window?" Cristina asked, worried, looking at her husband asleep on that bed. The soldiers were finally gone, and when everybody went back to bed, she had come down to the cave with Felipe to find out what happened with Diego and Roberto.

"That's what he said. Apparently, that bastard was waiting for him and shot him. Twice," Don Francisco explained.

"What?"

"Don't be so alarmed, dear. He is fine. One of the bullets only grazed him. Look." Don Francisco lifted the blanket he had covered Diego's body with, to show her the small wound.

"What is that?" she said pointing at an abnormally dark, large purple bruise above that wound, over his rib cage.

"I don't know. That bruise has come up quite quickly. He said the ribs were not broken, though."

"I don't like this. Diego, wake up!" she said, shaking his shoulders slightly to arouse him.

He opened his eyes a bit to look at her, keeping them only half open.

"What?" he asked with a sleepy voice, which sounded as if he was drunk.

"Diego. Wake up. Come on!" she insisted, shaking him a bit more. He focused then on her face, blinking a couple of times.

"I am sorry, Cristina. I failed. Again."

"Don't worry about that now. What happened? Are you alright?"

"Yes, the bullet only scratched me. I think that— argh!" He cried out in pain then when he tried to move on his side to sit down on the bed.

"What's wrong? What's hurting you?"

"I don't know. But it really hurts. On the left side, under the ribs," he said, showing panic on his eyes.

"You have a huge bruise in there. Are you sure the ribs are not broken?"

"I don't know, but I don't think so. It doesn't hurt when I breathe, it hurts all the time. It feels different than a broken rib."

"Felipe, we need the doctor here."

Felipe nodded, but before he could move to get ready to go the pueblo to fetch him, they heard the tinkling of the little bells at the back door, and then the sound of hooves coming through the back passage. As if it was a wish coming true, or some kind of a miracle, Doctor Hernández came into the cave shortly after, walking in front of his horse.

"Buenas noches," he said. "I came as soon as I could. There was a commotion at the plaza tonight and I came out to check what had happened. The soldiers told me Zorro had jumped out of the window on the first floor. They also said the alcalde shot him. Is he alright?"

"Thank God you are here, doctor. Felipe was about to go out to get you," Cristina said, grabbing his sleeve to take him to Diego. "He is not right, he is complaining about his side."

Doctor Hernández quickly examined Diego's abdomen. When he touched the bruise, Diego cried out again.

"I don't think the ribs are broken, but it hurts. A lot," Diego, said.

"You are right, Diego. The ribs are not broken."

"What's wrong then?"

"Don't move. For the location of that bruise I think you may have damaged the spleen when you hit the ground. It is not totally burst, or at least I don't think so, otherwise you may have bled to death already, but it is probably badly bruised and inflamed, and lacerated. There is nothing I can do to stop its bleeding. A tight bandage won't do this time as it is located under your rib cage, although it may help a little. Just rest there, and let's hope it clots soon so the bleeding stops. All that area is so painful because of the contusion."

"Are you sure there is nothing you can do right now?" Diego asked.

"No. Just rest, don't move. As I said, let it heal. The least you move about, the better."

"I was looking for Sergeant Mendoza to let him know about Roberto, but I couldn't see him. Did you?"

"Diego, Mendoza and Sepúlveda are in jail. The alcalde took control of the garrison again and arrested them for treason. He will probably try to execute them in a couple of days."

"I knew it! I knew I had to kill that vermin when I had the chance!" Diego said clenching his fist, trying to lift his torso to sit up. The doctor pushed him back on the mattress.

"What did I just say? Don't move, Diego. I am serious here. If that spleen ruptures you'll die."

"Who is going to get them out of jail then?"

"I don't know, Diego. But not you. Not this time."

"_We'll think on something. Don't worry,"_ Felipe signed confidently.

"I know I can always count on you, Felipe. Thank you," he said, extending his arm to reach him. Felipe took his hand, squeezing it tightly, smiling back.

"Now, lift your rear end as high as you can and stand still for a moment. It won't make a huge difference, but a tight bandage on your abdomen may still help a little. And it will help to prevent you from moving about too much, which I think it is going to be the difficult part: to keep you still."

"Sorry, doctor. I'll try to be a good patient."

"We have some long ropes here. Don't push it or I'll tie you down to the bed," Cristina said threatening with her finger, pretending to be cross.

"Yes, ma'am. From now on, I am glued to this bed."

"Good," she said, kissing his forehead. "Rest now, dear. Doctor's orders."

"And what about you? Your wound is bleeding," Diego said, pointing at her dress.

"Yes, I know," she said, letting out a sigh. "I used my leg too much today, I am afraid. The wound has come open."

"Then take your own advice and rest as well. Otherwise, I'll be the one to use the ropes to tie you down. Deal?"

"All right, deal. We'll rest. Buenas noches. I'll see you in the morning." She headed for the stairs, limping, and Felipe tried to follow her, but Don Francisco got on the way.

"Now, Felipe, before you go," he said, passing his good arm over the youngster's shoulders. "Is there any food left in the kitchen? I am starving!"

ZZZZZ


	47. Chapter 47 - Confined

**Chapter 68 – Confined**

For the rest of the night and the next morning, Diego was true to his word and he stayed in bed. The fact that the doctor was so concerned his damaged spleen could break at any point, killing him, was enough to keep him quiet. He didn't want to admit it, but he feared that possibility. Besides, lying down was the easiest thing to do because every time he moved it hurt under his ribs, inside, with a kind of pain he had not felt before.

However, that compliant behaviour as a patient only lasted until the afternoon, when Diego could not rest quietly any longer. The only reason why at some point he didn't go upstairs through the secret door on the fireplace was because Don Francisco didn't let him.

ZZZ

Cristina also stayed in bed resting all morning. She recognized she had been a fool using her leg too much too soon, and now she would have to start again the healing process.

At lunch time, Felipe came to her bedroom to bring her some food, as she didn't want to walk to the dining room.

"Thank you, Felipe. You are a star."

"_What about Mendoza?" _he signed after he left the tray on the side table.

"Mendoza? I am very sorry, but I can't see how we can help him this time. Diego can't, and neither can I," she said pointing at her hip.

_"Me?"_ he signed, pointing at his chest.

"On your own? Come on, Felipe. Be real. What are you going to do and how? If you are planning on using the sleeping darts we ran out of them, that's one thing I know. Diego told me he can't make anymore at the moment because he needs the extract of a plant which only grows in the Amazon rainforest. And some sort of frog as well."

Felipe made more signs, agitated, but Cristina shook her head.

"I know you told him you'll do something. But I don't know what or how. I'm sorry."

"_Me too_."

After Felipe left, she ate her food and continued to lie in bed a bit longer. But, the same as Diego, her peace and quiet only lasted until the late afternoon, when the alcalde arrived at the hacienda demanding to see her.

ZZZ

Soldiers had spread out all over the place, and the alcalde had taken possession of the library as his office. He waited there for Cristina to appear while he looked at the tittles of the books on the shelves.

"Buenas tardes, señora. This is an official expropriation document," Roberto said when she came into the library, showing her a piece of paper. "The lawful owner of this hacienda and his only heir are fugitives from justice, so it is within my authority to take possession of this property in the name of the Mexican Government."

"That's a lie! You cannot do that!" Cristina said, livid.

"Señora, I advise you to revise the current laws applied to this kind of situations, and do not interfere with the process, please."

"What about my father's land?" she asked. Roberto produced a similar document, which he waved under her nose.

"It falls under the same premise. He is another fugitive from justice."

"But I am the heir in that case. You can't steal my land! Because that's what you are doing, aren't you? Stealing!"

"You may still be prosecuted in association with the crimes committed by your husband and your relatives. That invalidates any rights you may have over that property as well."

Roberto knew he was making it up as he went along, but that woman seemed to buy his bullshit, or at least she stopped complaining about it.

"Do we have to leave?"

"No. As a matter of fact, I would like you to stay here."

"Why?" she asked, suspicious.

"Because of the goodness of my heart?"

"I don't think you have one," she spat, making him laugh.

"You may be right about that, actually. Otherwise, that arrow could have killed me." He came closer then, menacing, pointing with his index finger at her chest, nearly touching her cleavage.

"You know where your husband is. So, now: you; your mother; your daughter; that deaf servant of yours; and specially the tavern wench I just saw trying to hide in a room down that corridor; you are all going to stay here confined until your husband, and with that I mean _Zorro_, comes to your rescue."

Cristina looked at him in awe, with her mouth wide open. Diego had failed to mention Roberto knew his secret identity. But she recovered quickly of that shocking revelation and she tried to deny it.

"What are you trying to say? That my husband is Zorro? How could that be? My husband is sick. He has been for a long time. And, I don't know where he is."

"Maybe he has been fooling you as well as everybody else, but I know the truth now."

"I think that idea is ludicrous. But, even if my husband was Zorro, why do you think he would come? Because this will look like an obvious trap to Zorro."

"He _will_ come. Because I'll have in my hands everything he holds most dear: his wife and daughter, and the rest of his family."

_No, but you'll be close enough, because you'll also have Victoria_, she thought, bitterly.

"I'll say it one more time: my husband is _not_ Zorro."

Roberto didn't say anything else, and just stood there looking at her with his most seductive smile, making her cringe in apprehension. Cautiously, she took a couple of steps back away from him.

"Where are you going to stay? We don't have enough empty rooms here."

"I'll stay in the best room in the house, of course, as I need to nurse my wound," he said, tapping his chest over the sling with his free hand. "I believe that is your bedroom, isn't it?"

"If you are still sick, you should be at the infirmary in the garrison, not here."

"I am staying here, don't you worry about me. I am sure your husband will not stand this situation, and he'll come. I only have to wait for him. And in the meantime, maybe we can get to a compromise about the space," Roberto said, suddenly grabbing Cristina's bottom, "like sharing your bed."

"Get your hands off me!" She wriggled away from his hand and slapped his face hard, in the same manner Victoria had done.

"Be careful," he warned, grabbing her arm in a strong grip, smiling viciously. "You are safe for now only because I don't feel well enough to pin you down and give you some, but I may get some help for that. I am sure some of the soldiers will be willing to give me a hand or two."

She remembered the "nice gentleman" comment about her daughter the previous day and fear crept inside her on top of her disgust.

"Go to hell!" she screamed, wriggling again to get free, and he let her go, laughing. She left the library as fast as she could, trying not to limp, not sure where to go, but somewhere as far away as possible from that man.

"Yes! Go and tell your husband to come and save you! I am waiting!"

ZZZ

At the cave, Diego could not take it any longer. When the discussion had started, he had left the bed to come closer to the entrance, and had shared views through the spy hole with Don Francisco. Anger had been progressively bubbling inside him, and in the end, he could not stop himself and he reached for the lever to open the secret door. Don Francisco held his hand before he could grab it, pushing him back away from the entrance.

"No! Let it go! Don't open that door!" he said, in a controlled whisper.

"It is your daughter out there with that animal!" Diego answered back with the same repressed tone.

"She'll be fine. He won't touch her. He is trying to scare her so she calls Zorro, can't you see? We have to wait. I am sure your father is about to arrive with more soldiers any moment now. Please, don't blow it. Go back to bed."

"I can't stand this! I can't be lying in bed all day while this is going on!"

"I know it's difficult, but you know what the doctor said. Please, go back to bed. You are in no condition to rescue anybody, and you know it. Please."

"No."

"Diego, don't make me drag you there. Go now."

Diego reached for the mechanism again, and Don Francisco slapped his hand.

"Get off! I have to disable this, so the soldiers don't action the switch accidentally!"

"Oh, sorry, son. Go ahead. But don't open it, for Christ sake!"

Diego started to tamper with the mechanism, but then he stopped and looked at Don Alejandro.

"What if they need to come through in a hurry?"

"Then we'll have to stay alert so we can open the door from the inside. You are right; we can't risk the alcalde finding this entrance by accident. That would only make matter worse. Disable it, please."

ZZZ

After Cristina left, Roberto slumped in one of the comfy armchairs at the library, spent. The journey to the hacienda in a carriage had left him exhausted and drained of energy, but he had carried on pretending to be strong and fully in command, and nearly recovered from his injury.

He had prepared the false expropriation documents a while ago, before he was injured, and the initial plan was to eventually sell both properties to his brother, but now they would probably have no time to develop such a cunning plan. They had to find the treasure soon, otherwise they would have to abandon the place before the judge from Monterey would catch up with them. But, at least, before that happened, he wanted to get rid of Diego de la Vega, something he should have done when he first arrived to Los Angeles instead of allowing him to live a miserable life. On top of that regret, he thought it was a shame he had to bluff now about taking Diego's stunning wife, because he didn't feel up to the job to force her to have sex, but he hoped she got scared enough as to try to contact Zorro to save her from such possibility. Nonetheless, regardless to what happened to Diego in the end, he could try to get her later, when he had recovered a little bit more.

With his good arm, he moved another heavy chair closer, without lifting it, dragging it along the floor with a loud screeching noise to place it in front of him. Then he reclined on his armchair, lifting his feet on top of the other chair, carelessly staining the expensive upholstery with his filthy boots. He sighed, relaxing, and from that position he thought about Victoria, wondering what she was doing there at the hacienda De la Vega. Actually, with everything that had happened since he had raped her, when he last saw her, he hadn't thought about her at all. He smiled when he recalled her panic face when she had slammed that door while trying to hide from him. With that amusing thought, he relaxed a bit more and tried to doze on a late siesta.

ZZZ

Victoria was in a state. She had panicked when she saw the alcalde coming into the house, with a terrible, vivid flashback of the events. She could not face that man. Her knees shook uncontrollably with the intense fear she was feeling while she leaned with her back against the door she had just slammed.

_Zorro, please, come and get me because I can't face that man. Please, come and take me away from here, _she thought, crying again.

ZZZ

"He must be aware of all this, Felipe, hearing everything that happens at the library. I can't imagine what must be going on through his head right now," Cristina said, whispering in the kitchen. It was the first chance she had had to be alone with the young man since the soldiers had arrived. "I only hope he doesn't do any anything foolish and he doesn't come up here to _save us_. That would be the worst thing he could do, because he cannot possibly save anybody in his condition. Or my father, good grief. God help us if he tries to play Don Quixote one more time with a broken arm!"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Felipe chuckled at that comment.

"We have to be strong, Felipe, and hold on until Don Alejandro returns with the alcaide. Hopefully tomorrow, or the next day. Whatever happens, especially if we are at the library, we have to look in control, so they don't feel the urge to come out to help us. Do you agree?"

Felipe nodded, serious now.

"And another thing. We can't leave Victoria alone at any moment. Right now, she is the most vulnerable one in here."

"_Why?"_

"I can't tell you why. But we both know she is a soft spot for Diego. I don't want anything or anybody threatening her so Diego feels the need to help her. Do you understand?"

Felipe nodded again.

"Good. Let's go back with the others now, before those clowns come looking for us."

ZZZZZ


	48. Chapter 48 - Over my Dead Body

**Chapter 69 – Over my dead body**

The abuse continued all evening and into the night. Don Francisco sat on a chair close to the spy hole to monitor the situation at the library, ready in case anybody would need to come through the fireplace door in a hurry. At the same time, he kept an eye on his son in law. He didn't let Diego get out of bed, sending him back there every time he tried to get up to come near to the secret entrance. It was an exhausting task, like putting a rebellious two year old child to bed.

With all that trouble, he could only hope Don Alejandro would arrive soon with the alcaide and they would not need to intervene upstairs.

ZZZ

"González, you are a very good soldier, and I thought you were a good man too," Mendoza said from his cell that night, addressing the lone soldier guarding it, "but right now, to me, you are a traitor, like the rest of them. If we had stayed together, the alcalde could be locked up in this cell instead of us, and we would be waiting for the arrival of the judge from Monterey to sort this mess out."

Mendoza grabbed the bars at the door and finished his speech with a wailing, desperate, high pitch tone of despair: "but thanks to you, bunch of cowards, we don't have much time to wait now because the alcalde is going to send us to the gallows tomorrow!"

"Sergeant Mendoza, I am very sorry I didn't back you up, but you have to understand: I have a family to take care of, while you don't. If I had challenged the alcalde I would be sharing that very same cell with you and the corporal, and then I would not be able to do this," Private González said, opening the cell's door.

"Madre de Dios! González, are you sure? If we go now, he'll find out it was you who let us go!"

"Not if you make it look as if I suffered a surprise attack. Hit me with that chair to leave me unconscious, but please, not so hard I lose my memory and end up a cripple, like Don Diego de la Vega."

"Yes, good idea. Thank you, González." Mendoza came out of the cell, followed by Sepúlveda, and he grabbed the chair. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Hurry up. I left two horses at the back, saddled and ready for you," González said, turning round to offer an easy shot to the back of his head.

Mendoza lifted the chair over his own head, hesitated for a moment, and then lowered it down again.

"Where is the alcalde now?"

"He is at the hacienda De la Vega. Please, don't go there in search for help."

"What is he doing there?"

"I don't know. But all the De la Vega's still in the house are going to be held prisoners there until all the fugitives are caught. And I don't know when would that be, because nobody knows where they are."

"I bet Zorro is still hiding them. Well, thank you for everything, González. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Sergeant, go ahead," the private said, bracing for the impact with his eyes closed, and his jaw and fists clenched tightly.

Mendoza lifted the chair again and hit González with it, but he was afraid of causing too much damage to that man, so he ended up hitting him too softly to make him lose consciousness, but hard enough to make him howl in pain. The soldier fell on his knees, holding the back of his head with his hands, complaining.

"Mierda!" Mendoza left the chair on the floor. "Are you all right, González?"

"No, but you have to hit me again or they won't believe this was an attack!"

"I'll do it," Corporal Sepúlveda said, grabbing the chair. He was going to enjoy hitting that man, as he had some arguments with him in the past, and some unresolved issues still lingered between them.

"No! Not you!" Private González said, trying to stand up then. "I want —."

Sepúlveda didn't let Gonzalez finish. He smashed his head with the chair and the soldier drop down with the impact, sprawled on the floor like a dead man, unconscious. Sepúlveda let go of the back rest, the only piece of the shattered chair still in his hands, and urged Mendoza to the back door, pulling from his jacket.

"Come on, let's go!"

"I think you killed him… Madre de Dios!" the sergeant said, staggering out of the door when Sepúlveda pushed him out into the darkness of the night.

ZZZ

Victoria was on edge all evening, trying to avoid Roberto at all costs. Cristina tried to stay by her side most of the time, the same as Felipe, so she would not be left on her own with the soldiers, even less with the alcalde.

At the first chance they had, when the two women were alone that night when the soldiers went out of the living room for a brief moment, Victoria whispered in a self-assuring manner:

"Zorro will come to help us tonight. He can't leave us on our own like this."

Cristina sighed deeply. She wasn't sure how to get her message across without upsetting that already fragile woman too much, but she had to try.

"Zorro can't help us, Victoria," she whispered back. "He is injured. He fell of the window at the first floor when the alcalde shot him yesterday."

"Oh, my God! Are you serious? Is he all right?"

Cristina hated to see that concern on Victoria's face. It was the concern of a woman in love, the same expression she could see in the mirror staring back at her every time Zorro was out facing danger.

"Yes, I think so, but the doctor told him to stay in bed for a few days, resting. I am telling you, Zorro is in no condition to come to the rescue right now. For anybody. Not even you."

"And how do you know all that?" Victoria asked, eyeing Cristina suspiciously.

"The doctor came to see me this morning and he told me what happened to Zorro last night."

"Why was the doctor here to see you?"

Cristina puffed, tired of the questioning, but carried on lying nonetheless.

"I keep having very strong pains in my lower abdomen. I thought it could be my damaged uterus."

"Is it?"

"No, doctor Hernández doesn't think so. He gave me a painkiller infusion and told me to rest. An advice I am not following, as you can see," she said, really fed up now of the questions. She paused for a moment and then carried on, determined to get the message across as plainly and clearly as possible.

"Look, Victoria. What I am saying is: no matter what happens, no matter how bad the situation is, please keep it quiet. Keep it to yourself. The alcalde is behaving like this because he is trying to force us to contact Zorro so he comes to the rescue. But, we can't expect him to come because he is injured. That would be too selfish of us. The alcalde will kill Zorro if he shows up, and also Diego and my father, who are hiding with him at his secret place."

"I can't face that man after what he did to me! I really can't. I want to be rescued, really badly. Right now!" Victoria insisted, not listening, blinded with fear.

"I know what he did to you, and I am very sorry for you, but please, try to understand. I will stay by your side, but if something happens again, please, be quiet. Don't cry out for help. Despite his injuries, I think Zorro is monitoring the house at the moment somehow, especially the library, so don't give him any reasons to come here."

"What are you trying to say? That if that animal comes onto me to rape me again I should let him do it, and be quiet? Are you insane?!"

"If it comes to that point: yes! That's what I am saying! The alcalde has been bothering me since he arrived. He is repulsive, but I have managed to keep him at bay so far. But, if he tries harder and gets some help to hold me down to have sex with me, I will shut my eyes and forget what is happening rather than crying for help, rather than putting Zorro, Diego, and my father in danger! Do you understand?"

Victoria looked at her in shock, with her mouth open.

"You can only say that because you've never been raped," she said, crying and shaking uncontrollably one more time while remembering her ordeal. "I won't let that happen again. Ever. I'll kill myself if I have to, rather than going through that painful shame again. It will only happen over my dead body!"

"No, you won't kill yourself. Don't be so dramatic, please. Think: you have survived it once, so you can survive it again. But, hopefully, nothing is going to happen and Don Alejandro will be here soon with the alcaide of Santa Bárbara."

"What?"

"Don Alejandro left a few days ago to get help. He should be back soon. We just have to hold on until he does. Please, Victoria, I am begging you, be strong and no matter what happens, don't cry for help. Promise me that."

"I can't! Unless you can promise that son of a bitch won't get near me!"

"I'll try my best. And I will switch places with you if I have too, as long as I keep you quiet."

"What do you mean you will…" Victoria didn't finish because one of the soldiers came back into the room.

ZZZ

Despite their worries and apprehension, nothing happened that night and Victoria and Cristina managed to get some sleep in the end, before the morning.

Armando was one of the soldiers on guard at the hacienda that night. He had been awake all the time watching over the prisoners, especially the two beautiful young women in the house. While watching them on their sleep, he understood why Roberto seemed to be so obsessed with them, although his obsession was out of place. _He should stop fooling around. He should focus on finding that goddamn treasure instead, before we have to leave as poor as we came_, he thought.

At dawn, other soldiers took over the watch and Armando went outside to get some fresh air before he would retire to sleep for a few hours. It was a nice day, and he went for a short walk, wandering in the countryside not far away from the house, not following the established paths. He was lost in thought, looking down to the ground, and he didn't notice the large boulder blocking his way until he nearly bumped into it. He walked around it to continue his aimless wander, but only a few steps on he realized he was walking along an earth wall.

Excited, he came back to the boulder. That was an area they hadn't searched yet, as it was so close to the hacienda De la Vega, which was still on sight behind him. Could it be the elusive spot they had been looking for so long? His excitement grew exponentially when he spotted a small brook running nearby, exactly as the description in that old document. He searched around the boulder for a cave, or at least an entrance of some sort. He tried to move it in case it was blocking the way to the treasure, but the boulder was too large and heavy to push it out of the way on his own. He reluctantly gave up and returned to the house to tell Roberto and the others.

ZZZ

After Mendoza and Sepúlveda escaped from jail they had headed for Monterey to meet the couple of soldiers that should be on their way back with the judge. They travelled all night to get some distance ahead and, to their surprise, in the late morning they met Don Alejandro and the guards from the Presidio of Santa Bárbara, instead of the judge.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant Mendoza. Corporal Sepúlveda," Don Alejandro saluted.

"Don Alejandro! So good to see you! How are you?"

"I am fine, thank you, Sergeant. As you can see, I am in good company. This is Imanol Rivera, the alcaide at the Santa Bárbara Presidio."

"Encantado, nice to meet you. I am Jaime Mendoza, sergeant of the new Mexican Army, at your service."

"Nice to meet you, sergeant. What are you doing here so far away from Los Angeles? I hope everything is all right," the alcaide said.

"No, señor, it's not all right. Far from it. The alcalde has gone insane!"

"Is he still alive then? I thought he would die from that injury," Don Alejandro said.

"Yes, he is alive, and recovering really fast. Right now he had taken quarters in your hacienda!"

"In my house? Why?"

"I don't know exactly why. I think he is holding everybody in the house as prisoners until he can get hold of you and Don Francisco. He was very cross when he found out I had sent for the judge in Monterey to get a new trial and that we would not search for you as criminals."

"He threw us in jail for treason," Sepúlveda said, itching to intervene in the conversation, "but we escaped."

"See, alcaide? That's what I was talking about. Than man wants to get hold of our haciendas and the whole territory for some obscure reason. We have to hurry up. He is already in my hacienda doing God's knows what to my family," Don Alejandro said, anxious.

The alcaide nodded, pausing for thought.

"Come on, guards. Let's press on to get there as soon as possible before the night falls."

"We'll go back with you, Don Alejandro," Mendoza said, turning his horse around.

"Of course you are, sergeant," the alcaide said. "Until I find out what exactly your misconduct was and why you were thrown in jail, consider yourself under arrest. Both of you. Hand over your weapons, please."

Mendoza gulped and, following instructions, he relinquished his musket, gun and sword, handing them to the closest presidio guard.

"Sí, señor. As you wish."

Corporal Sepúlveda did the same, and then the group re-started the march towards Los Angeles at a faster pace, with no time to waste.

ZZZZZ


	49. Chapter 49 - Searching

**Chapter 70 – Searching**

"I think I found it!" Armando said in a low voice, nearly whispering.

"Did you? Where?" Roberto asked, standing up from his favourite, comfy armchair at the library, excited.

"Here. It is quite close. No wonder we couldn't find it before; we've never searched so close to the house."

"So, what did you find? What is in there?" Roberto said with a greedy glint in his dark eyes.

"Well, I don't know yet. It must be the right spot, but I didn't see a cave. Maybe the boulder is covering the entrance. I tried to move it, but it was too heavy for me."

"Get Pablo and Luis to help you. And avoid the other soldiers, those loyal to Mendoza; don't let them see what you are doing. Maybe we'll be lucky and we can leave this place before the judge comes."

ZZZ

Don Francisco had fallen asleep on his chair by the secret door. He woke up feeling stiff, and his broken arm hurt again due to the uncomfortable posture. He shook his head to clear it, yawning, and then he stood up, only catching Roberto's last words.

_What are you up to now?_ he thought, looking through the spy hole. Whatever it was, it had made the alcalde really happy, as he was smiling, looking excited. When Armando left, leaving him alone, Roberto rubbed his palms together and sat down again, lifting his boots over the chair that served him as a stool, and he let out a long sigh, looking satisfied.

_Whatever. You won't smile for long._

Don Francisco walked down the small set of steps to go down to the cave to get breakfast. Luckily for them, the last time he had asked for food Felipe brought him plenty of supplies to the cave, and now they would not need any more deliveries for a while.

Diego was awake already, munching the remains of the delicious _magdalenas_.

"Buenos días. How are you feeling today, Diego?"

"Buenos días," he answered with his mouth full. He swallowed the last piece of the cupcake before he continued. "I am feeling much better, thank you. Still quite sore, but it doesn't hurt so much now. What about you?"

"I fell asleep on that rickety chair. I am stiff as a stick, and my arm aches again really badly."

"We should have taken turns to watch the entrance. Why don't you rest on the bed now and I'll keep an eye in the meantime?"

"Are you sure? I think you shouldn't move about so soon."

"I am not going to move about. I am going to be sitting down on that chair. How much damage can I do to myself like that? _Sitting_ still qualifies as _resting_, doesn't it?"

"All right. We'll switch places for a while." Don Francisco searched the empty basket and then looked back at Diego, disappointed. "No more magdalenas?"

"No, sorry. I took the last one. It was delicious!" Diego teased while walking past the older man on his way up.

"Shut up! Oh, by the way, the alcalde is up to something. Have a look. His secretary was there a moment ago, but I missed their conversation. The bastard looks happy now."

Diego stopped in his tracks and looked back at his father in law.

"Do you think he… he may have…" He swallowed hard. He couldn't articulate the words.

"No. I am sure it's not _that_. He said: "_maybe we are lucky and we can leave this place before the judge comes._" He didn't mention the women, don't worry."

Diego got close to the secret door and had a look through the spy hole. Don Francisco was right. Roberto looked happy for some reason. He was smiling absent minded, with a book on his lap, passing the pages over with his good hand in a lazy, casual manner, not paying attention to its contents.

Watching that man sitting on his favourite armchair, staining the expensive upholstery with his filthy boots and handling his precious book as if he owned it, was on the whole too upsetting for Diego. He felt his anger rising up quickly, so he had to stop looking through the spy hole and sit down on the chair to calm down, keeping some distance from the alcalde.

_If only I had dispatched him back to hell when I had the chance… If only._

ZZZ

"If we don't find it soon, I am going," Luis said. He was talking to Tomás in the patio, away from the others, venting his frustrations while smoking a small cigar. "After all, there is no guarantee there is a treasure hiding here at all," he continued, puffing up some smoke. "That's what Roberto told us, but, what if he was lying? It wouldn't be the first time."

"No. I saw that old document he found in Manila once. It looked real," Tomás said. "But you are right. If we don't find it in the next couple of days, that's it. I am done too."

Armando walked up to them with the new orders.

"Where is Pablo?" he asked.

"There," Luis said, pointing inside with his cigar. "Why?"

"You are both going to help me with something today. I think you'll be pleased with the new assignment. Come with me, Luis."

"What about me?" Tomás said, jealous.

"You'll stay here watching the prisoners. _His_ orders. Have fun!" Armando said, walking off.

"Tough," Luis said shrugging his shoulders. He handed over the cigar butt to his friend and followed Armando.

"Yeah, right. _Fun_. Maldita sea!" Tomás said, taking the cigar to his lips, inhaling deeply to finish the stub. The only fun he could have in there had a long, dark hair and beautiful green eyes, but Roberto was first on the line to enjoy it. "_Vaya mierda_." He exhaled a cloud of smoke, threw the stub to the ground, and then flattened it with his boot before he walked back to the house.

ZZZ

"Mamá, where is papá?" Sofía asked in the kitchen at breakfast time, after she finished her glass of _leche con galletas_. "I want to play with him."

Cristina felt the soldier's eyes on her. The one called Tomás looked at her with special interest, awaiting her answer, but she ignored him.

"I don't know where he is, sweetheart."

"Why don't you know?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't."

"And where is grandpa Alejandro?"

"I don't know that either."

"Y abuelo Cisco? We could go pony riding."

"Sorry, darling, I don't know where they are. Any of them."

"You should know where they are, mummy! You always know everything!"

"Precisely. You should know, señora de la Vega," Tomás said, chuckling. "I think you do, and it will only be a matter of time before we persuade you to tell us, maybe the hard way."

If Cristina's eyes could throw real daggers, Tomás would be dead right then.

"Can I go out to play with Alejandro?"

"Yes, but only to the patio."

"Nobody leaves the house," Tomás said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don't be ridiculous. They are only going to the patio. They need to run around and let off some steam. They are only small children, for Christ sake, and they won't go anywhere!" Cristina said, losing it.

"I'll take them, dear, don't worry. I have finished my breakfast already," Doña María Luisa said. "_Vamos, niños_, let's go outside."

"Stay where you are," Tomás said, getting on her way.

"What's wrong _nice man_? Why can't go out to play? Want to come with us?" Sofía said with her sweetest voice.

Tomás hesitated for a moment. There was no real reason why they could not go out to the patio, or even to the garden, because it was enclosed and they could be supervised easily. Some soldiers were already outside watching out for Zorro. It would not make any difference whatsoever having the kids in or out.

"All right, _preciosa_, you can go out to play with your friend, but only if you give me a kiss first." He leaned over and Sofía kissed his cheek gently, to Cristina's dismay. She hated his triumphant expression when he stared back at her. "Your daughter is so sweet. So sweet and delicious… and soft like a peach. Like her mother, I presume."

Felipe walked by him, holding a tray with several cups of hot coffee. He tripped and fell over, smashing the tray on Tomás chest, pouring the contents over his jacket.

"Stupid moron!" the soldier shouted, wiping the burning dark liquid off his uniform. He kicked the fallen Felipe a few times, until Cristina got on the way.

"Stop it! He is deaf! Can't you see this was an accident?!"

She helped Felipe up, supressing a laugh when he winked at her.

ZZZ

Armando passed the long rope around the boulder and tied it securely. Then he tied each end of the rope to a saddle's pommel.

"Come on, boys. Pull!" he said, slapping the horses' rump.

Pablo pulled from the reins in front of the horses while Armando and Luis pushed the large, heavy granite stone. With the horses' help, the boulder started to move, dragged away from the earth wall inch by inch.

"That's it! Stop!" Armando said when the stone was some distance away from the earth wall.

Pablo halted the horses and walked back to the boulder to have a look.

"So? Where is it? Where is the entrance?"

The three men stared at the end of the earth wall, disheartened. There was no entrance.

"_Maldita sea_!" Luis said, kicking the freshly uncovered soil. "This is a joke! We are never going to find that treasure. It may not even exist and we are wasting our time! I think we should leave this place before it's too late. Don't you?"

"We may need to dig our way in. This has to be the place, I know it. It fits the description, and we have already looked everywhere else. It has to be here," Armando said, more hopeful.

"Yeah? You get the shovel and you dig. I am fed up of this," Luis said, sitting down.

"If you don't move your arse right now, you won't see a peso when we find it," Armando said, threatening the moaner with his index finger.

Luis got up and grabbed the shovel defiantly, attacking the earth wall with it, sinking its tip in the soil.

"Tell me when I have done enough digging for you," Luis said while pulling the shovel out, taking a portion of the earth wall with it, "before I get to the Philippines!"

"I will, don't worry. Carry on, please."

Pablo chuckled and grabbed another shovel, digging side by side with Luis.

ZZZ

"Hello, Victoria. How are you?" Roberto asked. Despite her efforts to avoid him, after lunch he managed to corner her in the parlour. Felipe was there with her, but because Roberto thought the boy was deaf, he didn't pay much attention to him. Turning his back to Felipe he continued talking to Victoria, who sat on a chair fidgeting and looking at the door as a stressed caged animal looking for an escape route. "Talk to me, please."

Victoria could not look at him, even less articulate any coherent words while panicking as she was.

"I said look at me," he insisted, taking her chin to force her head up. "I am not going to hurt you. I lost my temper the other day when you refused to love me. It should not have happened that way, but I'm not used to take no for an answer. From anybody."

Victoria gathered every bit of courage still scattered inside her petite frame to push his hand away from her face.

"I thought I could love you. I thought you were a good person," she said with a shaky voice while fighting back the tears, looking at him with reproach and hate in her eyes, and also obvious self-blame for being so gullible. "And you said you loved me too."

"Yes, and I do. I do! I love your gorgeous hair," he said, caressing it, tangling his fingers in her locks. "I love your soft lips," he continued, tracing her mouth's contour with his thumb, "and I love your inviting bosom, your warm, smooth skin, and above all, your perfect derrière," he said, moving his free hand as if he was fondling it, smiling with his eyes full of lust remembering it. Victoria felt sick.

"That's how much I love you. Did I say anything different? I don't think so. I didn't lie to you, but maybe you are too naïve, Victoria, and that is your own fault, not mine."

Victoria blushed as if agreeing with him.

"It was a pleasure to take you. It is a shame you see me now in such a bad shape," he said, pointing at his sling with his chin, "or I would try to love you again. You know, I was so disappointed you didn't show up to see me when I was half dead at the infirmary. So disappointed, really. What a pity."

She could not believe his shameless, cheeky attitude. She got so angry her temper was spurred, superseding her fear.

"You'll take me again over my dead body, scumbag!"

"That's my girl! Fierce, feisty, strong," he said, laughing again. "Please, don't play the sorrow, weak, hurt woman; it doesn't suit you. And don't you worry, _querida_, your wish can be arranged. But as I said, it is a shame I am not up to the job right now. I'll see you around, _preciosa_."

Roberto left the room, still laughing. Felipe looked at Victoria, upset because he had to hear that conversation. Now he knew why Victoria was so nervous and scared, and why Cristina had asked him to protect her.

Victoria smiled weakly at him.

"He is gone, thank God. I can't stand that man."

"_Neither do I,"_ Felipe signed, realizing then she still didn't know he could hear. It would be better if she didn't find out he had an idea of what happened to her.

ZZZZZ


	50. Chapter 50 - The Final Confrontation

**A.N – the following chapter has an M rating due to language, violence, and sexual content. Enjoy the action, and please, review. Thanks. **

**Chapter 71 – The final confrontation**

"Well, Armando, is that deep enough for you? Can we give up now?" Luis said, throwing the shovel to the ground to wipe off his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. He and Pablo had dug a considerably large hole, taking a portion of the earth wall down, but no entrance to a cave had been uncovered.

"I guess you are right and the cave and the treasure are not hiding behind the boulder," Armando said. "But I am sure this is the spot mentioned in that old paper. The entrance to that cave has to be around here somewhere."

"Alright. You stay here and find it. I am going back to the hacienda for lunch," Luis said, pointing at the building in the distance. "And maybe a siesta."

Pablo set down his shovel and joined him.

"Me too. The De la Vegas are so lucky: their cook, María, really knows her business."

Armando looked around to the mess they had done, and had to agree with them. It was late, and he was tired after a whole night watching the prisoners. He could also do with a nice meal and a siesta.

"Alright. Let's go back. But he is not going to like it. He is expecting results now."

"That's your fault, for telling him too early that you found it. You deal with it," Luis said, getting on his horse to go back to the hacienda, followed by the others.

ZZZ

"What do you mean you didn't find it? You told me before you had found it!" Roberto said, showing his bad temper.

"No, I said I _thought_ I had found the spot, but I haven't found the cave yet. We'll go back later to carry on searching," Armando said, as calmly as he could.

"We don't have much time, you know? That fool Mendoza sent soldiers to Monterey to get help. They should be back soon. And by the way, the stupid sergeant and his loyal companion escaped from jail last night. How did that happen?" Roberto barked.

"How would I know? I was here all night watching your precious trophies in their beauty sleep," Armando replied with his face showing the scorn he felt, too tired to try to please that dangerous man anymore. He was playing with fire and he knew it, but he didn't care.

Roberto looked at him, surprised, not used to that kind of reply. He hesitated for a moment, and then laughed heartedly.

"_My precious trophies!_ They are beautiful, aren't they? Well, never mind about Mendoza. We don't have time to look for him. Zorro probably helped them. What I don't understand is why he's not showing up here."

"Well. You shot him before he dropped from your window on the first floor. Are you sure you didn't hit him? Maybe he is half dead somewhere."

"I don't know. Maybe. Come on, let's go for lunch. I've been told that cook has done _pollo al ajillo_ today," Roberto said, looking forward to a good meal.

"Nice."

"Yeah. Let's go. I'm starving."

ZZZ

Through the spy hole, Diego watched the two men leave the library, feeling jealous because María's chicken with garlic was delicious and he would appreciate a portion too.

He came back to the chair, wondering about the conversation he had just heard. What cave were they looking for? His? And, how did they know about it? He had no answers to those questions, so he carried on analysing Roberto's words. At least he was pleased about one bit of the news: Mendoza and Sepúlveda had escaped from jail, and without Zorro's help, for once. What he wasn't so happy about was the way that vile man had referred to Cristina and Victoria: "_My precious trophies_."

_You better don't touch them or… or what? I'll kill you? Too late. I should have done that before,_ he thought, feeling depressed again. If anything happened to them he knew he could never forgive himself for the missed opportunity to get rid of that man when he had the chance.

Diego had been sitting on that uncomfortable chair all morning, and now his flank was sore again. He took his hand to his side when Don Francisco was looking in his direction, and he saw his gesture.

"Diego, you have sitting there for a long time now. You look quite pale again. Please, go back to bed. I'll watch the door now."

"You are right: this chair is a killer. For once, I'm not going to argue," Diego said, standing up, walking slowly to the bed. "Watch them carefully. They are up to something," he warned when he crossed ways with Don Francisco.

"Yes, I know. The bastards."

ZZZ

The trio returned to the boulder after siesta and continued searching the area, but they couldn't find the treasure, nor the gold mine. Discouraged, Armando ordered them to come back to the hacienda at dusk, when it got too dark to carry on searching.

Roberto didn't take the news too well. He had hoped they could find the treasure in time to leave California and disappear without a trace, even if that meant to leave the gold mine behind, as well as all the land they had acquired legally, which was in his brother's false name. And all the trouble he had now, it was only happening because he had not killed De Soto quickly, giving him enough time to open his big mouth to reveal his real identity to Mendoza before he died, and because he had allowed Diego carry on living as a cripple instead of getting rid of him from the beginning. Frustrated because he had no one else to blame for this fiasco but himself, he focused his anger at Diego, and Zorro, as he was sure they were the same person. He didn't know where Diego was, but he knew how to leave an embarrassing, painful mark on his life for ever.

ZZZ

Late that evening, after a long day of watching through the spy hole taking turns with Diego, Don Francisco had to refrain himself from falling into the emotional trap and the urge to take action to defend his daughter when the alcalde slapped Cristina hard, sending her to the floor. Roberto had called for her, and when they were alone he had suggested one more time sharing her bed, assaulting her. She replied with a slap, which he returned with much greater force.

As if she knew her father was watching, the first thing Cristina did when she stood up was sending a confident look to the fireplace, shaking her head, asking him not to do anything.

"What a big, brave man you are, taking on women like this," she said, wiping the trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. "But you couldn't take on Zorro, could you?"

She walked close to the bookshelf to quickly grab a long, sharp letter opener that was in one of the top shelves, out of reach from the children. She held the improvised weapon at arm's length in front of her while backing up towards the door.

"I'll retire to bed now. Don't you dare to follow me. If you come any closer, I'll kill you."

Roberto laughed at her words, not taking her seriously, until he realized her hand was not shaking, firmly holding the sharp letter opener, and her expression had a determination he had never seen in another woman before.

"Be careful now. Don't stab yourself with that thing," he said ignoring her advice, coming closer. "Give it to me."

ZZZ

Diego stood up and approached the older man slowly, holding his sore flank with his left hand. Don Francisco had been immobile by the spy hole, looking through it for a long time.

"What's happening?" he whispered, placing his right hand on the old don's shoulder. Don Francisco flinched, as he was so absorbed by the scene at the library he hadn't realized Diego was behind him.

"Nothing!" he whispered back. "Go back to bed."

"You have been looking through that hole for ages. Something is going on."

"Cristina has everything under control, don't you worry," he said, hoping that would be the case, but it wasn't.

"Let me have a look."

"No."

He could not let Diego see that. It was difficult enough for him just to watch, and he doubted Diego could handle it well. Despite his apparent calm, what Don Francisco wanted to do was to storm upstairs with his pistols to send that evil man back to hell, whatever the consequences. Instead, he carried on looking through the spy hole.

Right then, the alcalde tried to grab Cristina's arm, but she moved the sharp blade quickly, as an expert knife-fighter gypsy would do, and she slashed his upper arm with it, only superficially.

"The next one will be deeper," she said.

"Bitch!" Roberto cried, stepping back as if bitten by a snake. "I'll hang you with your husband and your father!"

"You'll never find them!"

At that moment, Tomás came into the library and he grabbed Cristina's arms from behind. While they struggled, Roberto took a chance to snatch the sharp blade off her hand, and he tucked it away in his pocket.

"You know where Diego is, and you are going to tell me! Now!" Roberto said then, grabbing her by the neck.

"Go to hell!" She tried to kick Roberto's crotch but she missed, hitting his thigh instead.

Don Francisco could not take it anymore and he moved away from the spy hole to get the pistols. Diego looked through it then, apprehensive, just in time to see Roberto punch Cristina's face, knocking her out cold.

Diego instinctively reached for the mechanism to open the door, but then he backed off, looking at Don Francisco as if needing his approval.

"I have to go! But as Zorro!" he said, rushing to change his clothes. "Don't try to stop me this time!"

"Do what you have to do, Diego, but be careful. I'll try to shoot that bastard from here!"

ZZZ

Armando heard the noise at the library. From the other room he could see Tomás and Roberto trying to reduce Cristina, but she was struggling, fighting back.

_There he goes again. I knew he could not resist the temptation to rape that woman_, he thought. He had been Roberto's first hand for a long time, and he knew his weakest point: women. He thought it was a despicable action to rape them and he never took part on the assaults, unlike most of his comrades, who would help Roberto if they had the chance, like that sinister Tomás was doing now. However, he never interfered with the assaults, and he never got involved.

He knew what he had to do. He called Pablo and with the help of some other soldiers, they moved all the people still up and about in the house to the kitchen, out of the way.

_For Christ sake, hurry up this time. I am fed up of this_, he thought, sombre, resting with his back against the wall, close to the kitchen door.

"What's going on? What's happening?" Victoria asked him.

"Nothing. Mind your own business," he replied in a foul mood.

"Where is Doña Cristina?"

"I don't know!" he barked.

"She went into the library not long ago," Victoria insisted.

"Then she is somewhere you don't want to be. So, count your blessings and shut up!"

Alarmed, Victoria looked at Felipe. He stood up and walked to the door, but Armando got on the way.

"Go back there, boy. Don't try my patience," he said, aiming his gun at him. He knew better that allowing anybody to interrupt Roberto in his activities. That had happened before and it wasn't pleasant, for anybody involved.

ZZZ

Don Francisco looked through the spy hole again. The men had changed positions, and he reckoned he could not reach Roberto if he shot him from that angle, but he could still hit Tomás. He got the end of the pistol barrel through the hole and blindly aimed at the soldier, firing the gun, hoping they would be so confused about where the shot came from that Cristina could have a bit of time to escape, as he didn't know she was already unconscious.

"What was that? A shot?" Roberto said, alarmed, taking cover behind the armchair. He looked around, puzzled. The window was closed and the glass panes were intact, and nobody else was in the room. He had no idea where a gunshot could come from.

"I don't know!" Tomás said, crouching down as well.

"Get her, and let's get out of here!"

Tomás lifted Cristina's limp body and placed her on his shoulder. He followed the alcalde out of the library carrying her as if she was as light as a feather.

When he saw his daughter unconscious and being carried away like that, Don Francisco thought he had accidentally hit her with the bullet. After they left, he tried to open the secret door, but he couldn't work out how to re-engage the mechanism to open it, even less using only one hand.

"Maldita sea!" After all that time guarding the entrance, now he realized it had been totally pointless if he was unable to open the door quickly. Diego had already left on Toronado while he got the pistols loaded and ready, and he couldn't help him with the door. He tried to open the door manually, but he couldn't do that either. It was jammed.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

He then headed to the back passage to exit the cave through the back door, with the other pistol in hand and carrying his sword at the waist, and he ran to the house as fast as he could, hoping he would not be too late to help his daughter and Zorro.

ZZZ

Cristina woke up to the feeling of someone tugging at her clothes. She opened her eyes to see two anxious faces hovering over her, full of lust, and she recognized her room, now Roberto's. She tried to sit up, slapping and pushing them away.

"Look who is awake now, ready to enjoy the ride," Roberto said, laughing. Tomás held her wrists, pinning her down on the mattress while the alcalde carried on tearing her dress. Despite her words with Victoria she panicked with the situation, and against her better judgement, she started crying for help until Tomás covered her mouth with one hand while holding both wrists with the other.

"Shut up, bitch! You'll wake everybody up," he said while she wriggled to get away from his strong grip. "Hurry up, will you?"

"I can't take this out!" Roberto said while struggling with her clothes with one hand. In the end, he got the confiscated sharp letter opener out of his pocket to rip them off. Under her clothes, he saw the dressings covering her hip and he also pulled them off. He stopped in his tracks when he saw that wound, which looked like a stabbing one made with a sword. Ignoring the other more appetizing parts of her anatomy in full display, he focused his attention at the wound on her hip for a few seconds, realizing it was in the exact same spot that annoying Italian should have a very similar stabbing wound right now. He tilted her body to a side, and he confirmed his suspicions when he saw the exit wound at the back.

"How did you get this?"

The muffled cries stopped, and she looked at him with wild eyes. Roberto signalled to Tomás to uncover her mouth. When he did, he asked again.

"How did you get this wound in your hip?"

She didn't answer, but her green eyes spilled pure hatred.

"I did that, didn't I?" he said, hovering closer to her head. He reached for her face, pressing on both sides of her jaw, moving it roughly from side to side to examine her up close.

_Yes, she has the same eyes as the Italian, and she would look similar with a fake beard on, but it's unbelievable she could be so skilled with a sword. She is a woman! Although, she had handled the letter opener quite well, as an expert knife fighter..._ _Could it really be her then?_

"Leonardo, wasn't it?" he said in the end. "How can you be such an expert with a sword? Such a beautiful, delicate flower like you behaving like a brawler… Unbelievable."

"Fuck you!" she said, spitting on his face. He laughed, whipping off the saliva, cleaning his wet hand on her hair.

"No, darling, fuck _you_," he said, fumbling with his trousers. "Enjoy this while you can, before you hang with your husband and your father!"

Before he could start, Zorro came into the room like a hurricane. He pushed Roberto away from Cristina and then he punched Tomás so hard he instantly knocked him out cold. He had felt that man's cheek bone breaking against the fist, bursting through the skin and splattering blood, staining his leather glove and clothes with it. Cristina sat up in bed crying, desperately clinging to the black shape in front of her for a moment, until she let go of him.

"Deal with him! Kill him!"

Zorro turned to Roberto, who had fastened his trousers up and was reaching for his sword, which had been discarded on the floor with all the hassle to get to Cristina. Zorro unsheathed his sword as well, feeling a sharp pain at his side again after delivering that hard blow. Zorro regretted not to have a gun at hand to finish Roberto off quickly, but Don Francisco had taken the guns. At least, the alcalde didn't have a gun at hand either, and he would need to defend himself with the sword.

"Soldiers! Zorro is here!" Roberto shouted.

The two injured men engaged in a sword fight that had nothing to do with the elegant, fast-paced movements they had displayed only a few days before, when they were both healthy. They slowly made their way out to the patio while delivering ineffective thrusts and insulting each other, tiring out quickly.

Cristina got out of bed and walked over Tomás to get to her wardrobe. He was lying on his abdomen, bleeding profusely from an open wound over his fractured cheekbone, and a large puddle of dark blood was forming around his head quickly. _I hope you bleed to death, bastard_, she thought, kicking the inert body. She quickly got a blouse and a skirt on, not bothering with any underwear, and then she followed Zorro and Roberto out to the dark patio, as did most people in the house, including the soldiers, all alerted by the commotion.

ZZZ

Zorro and Roberto fought each other the best they could under the circumstances, which wasn't good enough.

"Shoot him!" Roberto shouted when the soldiers surrounded them. They lifted their muskets to follow orders, but right then a powerful voice shouted behind them.

"Don't shoot and stand back! This is Imanol Rivera, alcaide of the Santa Bárbara Presidio! I am taking command of the garrison in Los Angeles right now!"

The group had finally arrived at the hacienda in the dark and had got straight in the middle of the action. The former lancers lowered their weapons, puzzled, and looked at that man and the group of well-armed but tired looking guards that were surrounding them as a second layer. Zorro also lowered his sword, but Roberto didn't, taking advantage to renew the attack. Zorro reacted quickly, and they engaged in another succession of ineffective thrusts and parries.

"They don't look the same. They are… _slow,_" Mendoza said, shaking his head. They didn't look the same proficient fighters he had seen at the alcalde's office.

"Zorro fell of the window, remember?" Sepúlveda said. "And you know what happened to the alcalde."

"Oh, yeah. You are right. But it is disappointing to see them fighting like this. They were magnificent before."

Don Francisco arrived at the patio then, out of breath.

"Alejandro, thank God you are here!"

"What's going on? Are you all right?" Don Alejandro said, concerned about his friend and the way he had stopped, bending at the waist while catching his breath, resting the gun on his knee.

Don Francisco nodded while breathing heavily after the effort to get there quickly on foot.

"Where is Cristina? Can you see her?" he managed to say in the end.

Don Alejandro looked around the patio, which was dimly lit by a few candles only. He spotted her getting closer to Zorro, making her way among the soldiers.

"There! There she is."

The fighters stopped for a moment, looking worn out. Zorro stepped back away from Roberto and then he spoke up.

"This man that you see here, the one you believe is Gabriel Salamanca from Chihuahua, he is a liar, and a murdered. His real name is Roberto Malpartida. He killed alcalde De Soto to take his place!"

"You can't believe what a criminal like Zorro says!" Roberto shouted back. "Arrest him!"

The Mexican soldiers got their muskets up, ready again, but they hesitated waiting for the orders of the man that seemed to be in charge now: the alcaide in Santa Bárbara.

ZZZZZ


	51. Chapter 51 - Becoming a Star

**Chapter 72 – Becoming a Star**

"No! Get off the way!" Zorro shouted when Cristina positioned herself between him and the Mexican soldiers. He grabbed her arms and they looked at each other for a split second, which felt like an eternity. He was about to push her away from him, out of harm's way, when a loud bang startled everybody. Zorro flinched, and at that moment his mind overflowed with a torrent of memories, containing everything he had forgotten. Suddenly, he could remember everything about the woman he was holding at arm's length and how much he loved her. But right at the same time, before he could let her know the good news, Cristina gasped in pain, grasping Zorro's arms tightly, and fell over him, unable to support her own weight. The realization was shocking: she had been shot in the back.

"No. Noooooo!" he cried, pulling her up.

Mendoza was also in shock, looking at the alcalde. That furious man had taken a pistol from one of the soldiers and had shot Zorro with it, hitting Cristina instead. The sergeant was trying to come to terms with Zorro's words: _he is Roberto Malpartida_. When he finally did, Mendoza snatched a pistol out of a guard's belt and with a firm hand, as he had never done before when holding a weapon, he shot Roberto with it, hitting his forehead right in the middle, finally avenging De Soto.

Don Alejandro, Don Francisco, Felipe, Victoria and a few of the former Spanish Army soldiers, including Corporal Sepúlveda, moved between the Mexican soldiers and the couple in the middle of the crowded patio, trying to protect them.

"Hold your fire!" the alcaide ordered to all the soldiers and guards surrounding Zorro as they looked about to shoot each other in cross-fire. He was unsure of what was happening, puzzled by the situation in that overcrowded, confined space.

"Go! Go!" Don Alejandro shouted. "I'll take care of her!" But Zorro could not let go of her, unable to react. Don Alejandro grabbed his son's hands and pulled, taking them off Cristina's arms, and then, while holding her, he pushed him away. "Go!"

"Arrest him!" the alcaide finally said, pointing at Zorro. The Presidio guards approached the group with the muskets ready to shoot. "And arrest him too!" he added, pointing at Mendoza, who threw the gun to the ground and gave himself up, lifting his empty hands over his head, offering no resistance. Roberto lied on the ground in a pool of blood, dead, with his lifeless shark eyes looking up to the sky. His job was finally done, and Mendoza didn't care what would come next.

"Go now, please!" Don Alejandro begged again.

"Go," Cristina muttered, fainting in Don Alejandro's arms.

Zorro finally reacted and withdrew while whistling to Toronado, who came at once to get his master to safety, pushing the patio door with his head to get in. The horse bolted and kicked the air like a black fury to create a safe passage for Zorro to walk out of the patio, forcing the soldiers to retreat out of the way. Zorro got up the saddle and they ran away, galloping the short distance to the cave at top speed. When they arrived there, Diego changed his clothes faster than ever, and then he came back to the hacienda through the secret door, frantic.

ZZZ

"I am so sorry, Cristina. I can't imagine how you felt the first time I told you I didn't remember you at all, and that I didn't love you. It all came back to me like a flood the moment you were shot. I remember everything now. I remember the day I met you, and the day I proposed, right after I found out you were Leonardo because you had a scratch in your arm, and I remember that awkward first kiss under the desk. I remember when Sofía was born, and how much you suffered then. Now I can recall all the times you have been by my side when I have been injured, and how you saved my life before many times, and now again. Specially, I remember how much I love you, and how much I want to keep on loving you. I am so sorry for all the pain I caused you. For everything. Please, forgive me!"

Diego was crying a river by her side, holding anxiously her hand. He knew she was fatally wounded, and the guilt was eroding him. He could remember her now, but it was too late. The last few months had been a nightmare for Cristina, because she had felt abandoned and unloved. And now she would die protecting him. It wasn't fair. And it was nothing he or anybody else could do. Unless…

"Why don't you heal yourself? Why don't you use that magic, the same way you did when you got me back to life after the duel?" Diego asked, with a glimpse of hope.

"It doesn't work that way, Diego. To start with, I don't love myself the way I love you. It should be _you_ saving _me_, but I know, even if you would like to do it, deep down you don't believe it's possible. You don't have that kind of Faith, and it will never work. It would only make you feel worse if you try and fail."

Diego looked even more devastated now, being told so plainly he was not good enough to save her this time.

"I am tired. My time has come, and I am ready to go. Nobody can do anything about it."

"Please, don't leave me! I can't live without you!"

"Yes, you can, and you will. Actually, in a way, you had already done so for the last few months. Now, promise you won't do anything foolish. Sofía will need you. Please take care of her. For me. For her. For us."

"Yes, I will. But I don't know if I will be able to live with myself. You are going to die because of me, because I didn't kill Roberto when I had the chance."

"No, I am not. Don't let that guilt destroy you, Diego. I chose to get on the way, nobody made me. It is not your fault."

Diego was looking down now, with his head between his hands.

"Look at me. Please."

He took a moment to wipe his tears off and he eventually did, lifting his head reluctantly.

"It is not your fault." She reached slowly to touch his arm, and the contact made him burst into another torrent of tears that he cried with his head on her shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.

"It is not your fault," she repeated, whispering, caressing his back. She gently kissed his trembling head and whispered to his ear: "I told you I would die for you, and, actually, this time it doesn't hurt that much."

She could not feel her legs at all, and she only felt a strange, numbed sensation around her gunshot wound on her back, nothing comparable to the acute sharp pain she had felt when Roberto's blade had pierced her hip. Everything below her breast was paralyzed, and she had to make an effort to breathe.

Inconsolable, he cried for a while by her side. She continued rubbing his broad back gently, like a tender mother would do to a hurting child.

"When I go, you'll be released. No more anguish, no more choices; you'll be free. You'll see."

In his agitated state, he continued sobbing, without understanding her words. When he had calmed down a bit, Cristina asked him to let Sofía in.

The little girl approached her mother smiling happily because she could finally kiss her goodnight and go back to bed. Diego stood a small distance from them, trying not to cry again in front of his daughter.

"Goodnight, mummy," Sofía said, kissing her mother's cheek. "Are you going to sleep now?"

"Yes, dear, I am going to sleep. But, like the princess in the fairy tale, I am not going to wake up."

"Why?" she said, standing on her tiptoes to climb in bed with her. "If I kiss you tomorrow again, will you wake up like the princess did?"

"No, I won't, sweetie. I am going to sleep and I am going to travel to another place, leaving my body behind. I am going to become a star, and I will be watching you from the sky every night. You can talk to me. I will be listening to you."

"A star? Which one?"

"A very bright one. Ask your father; he will show you."

"I will." The sleepy child lay down on the bed with her head on her mother's shoulder, in the same way Diego had done before. Cristina stroked her hair gently, crying silently.

"Mummy loves you very much, dear. Remember that, always."

"Yes, mummy, I love you too." They stayed like that for a little while until Cristina signalled to Diego with her head.

Diego reached for his daughter, tapping gently on her shoulder.

"Come Sofía, let's go. Mummy needs to rest."

"Bye, mummy. Sleep now, I will see you in the morning. I am going to bed too," the little girl said, kissing Cristina goodbye again, forgetting already her mother said she would not wake up. "Why are you crying?"

"Because I am happy. I am happy to have you as my daughter. Bye, darling. Goodbye."

Don Francisco and Doña María Luisa bid her daughter farewell while Diego took Sofía to bed. When they came out, fighting back the tears unsuccessfully, Doctor Hernández came in to examine Cristina again. The bullet had severed her spinal cord, it was buried deep inside, and he could not retrieve it. She was bleeding, and the only thing he could do was monitoring her progressive deterioration and the inevitable demise. When he had finished taking her vitals, he whispered to Diego.

"She is getting weaker; I don't think it would be long now. I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do. She is still bleeding inside, and I can't stop it."

Diego nodded. He signalled to his father and Felipe, who came into the room to say goodbye too. When they came out also crying, Diego went back in. Cristina was very weak now, deteriorating quickly as the doctor had pointed out, but she said, in a nearly firm voice:

"I want to see Victoria now, please. Alone."

"Do you?" Diego said, surprised. He thought she despised Victoria.

"Yes. Please, let her in."

He came out of the room again, approaching Victoria, who was sitting on an armchair, crying quietly too, lost in thought, hardly aware of all the soldiers and people constantly passing by her at that late hour.

"She wants to see you, Victoria."

"Me? I didn't think she would," she said, unsure, wiping off her tears.

"I don't know why, but she does. Please, don't upset her, she is very weak now."

Victoria stood up and walked to Cristina's room, uncertain and apprehensive. She came into the dark room, which was only lit by a small candle on the bedside table. Its flame flickered slowly, creating moving shadows on the wall above Cristina.

"Hello, Victoria. How are you?"

"Fine, thanks." She nearly replied _"and you?"_ but she bit her tongue in time. "Diego told me you want to see me."

"Yes, I do. I want to talk to you. I need to ask you a favour."

"A favour? Sure. What is it?"

"I want you to take care of my little girl for me. She will need a mother when I am gone. You did so well when she was born, and I never thanked you for that."

"Yes, of course. I will. Don't worry."

"And I want you to take care of Diego too."

"What?"

"Victoria, you love him, and I know he loves you too. He always had, he told me that a long time ago, before he lost his memory. The proof for this is crystal clear: in his foggy mind, he was not able to forget about you, but he forgot me completely. You will always occupy a special place in his heart, that's why I have been so jealous of you and behaving like I have, especially when he couldn't remember me. Sorry if I was mean to you, but I always looked at you as a threat."

Victoria didn't know what to say, so she stood there immobile, just listening.

"You are a widow, so it would only be natural that with time you will end up together. Your little boy will need a father too. And you can have more children together, because you are not _damaged_, as I am," she said full of grief, shame, bitterness and sadness. "I want you to promise that you will look after Diego. He will need a lot of support because he feels responsible for this."

"I don't know what to say. It doesn't look right when you talk about this so… plainly."

"I don't have time for small talk or beating around the bush. I am dying, Victoria."

"There is just one thing I want to ask you. Why did you get on the way? Why did you protect Zorro? I did that once, I got shot too, but I loved Zorro then, and you don't."

Cristina smiled weakly.

"You know that answer. It is in your heart, you always knew," she said, mysteriously.

Victoria looked at her, perplexed. Her mind was reeling when she realized Cristina's words: "_he feels responsible for this_."

"Do you mean that… that he is… No! Is he?"

Cristina nodded.

"But, on the hearing, he said he wasn't, and the auditor believed him, and so did I! Was he lying? Are you sure he is Zorro?"

"Victoria, I really don't know why you have been in denial about this all your life. Yes, he is Zorro. But don't tell him that you know. He will tell you, eventually, when he is ready. That's why he is feeling so guilty now. That's why he will need your support. Please promise me that you will take care of him and Sofía, and that you will protect his identity."

"Yes, I will. I promise."

"Thank you, Victoria. Thank you very much. As I said, I am sorry for everything I did."

"You helped me when… you know…" she said with a knot on her throat, "and I will always be grateful to you for that."

"It was the least I could do. You also have to forgive me for sending you that horrible present. I regretted the moment I left it at the tavern, but then I could not recover it."

"That was you! I didn't know who sent me that revolting thing full of maggots, that horrible gift. I thought it was one of the many obnoxious men I rejected."

"No, it was me. Sorry. I was overwhelmed with envy and jealousy. In other circumstances, we could have been friends, I know that. It was unfortunate we had to share Diego's love," Cristina said. Her voice was getting weaker, nearly whispering now, and she had trouble breathing. "I want to see Diego now, please. I am so tired... Goodbye now, Victoria."

"Goodbye, Cristina."

Coming out of the room she saw the guilt in Diego's eyes. How could she never have truly realized before those eyes were Zorro's? She blamed herself for being blind as a bat. Now she understood the reason why Zorro advised her to marry Diego. Or why Zorro ignored her completely when Diego had lost his memory. Now it all made sense.

"She wants to see you now," she said, softly.

"What did she say? What did she tell you?"

"She wants me to take care of Sofía, and act like a mother to her. I promised I will."

"Nothing else?"

"No. She wants to see you now. She is getting weak, hurry."

ZZZ

Cristina was having trouble breathing now, but she still managed to get some air from time to time. Her battle was lost, and the shadows were coming down around her. She was shutting down.

"I love you, Diego," she said softly, closing her eyes.

"I love you, _mi amor_. I always did, even if I forgot, and I always will," he said, holding her hand tightly. He leaned forward and kissed her lips tenderly, with pure love, as he hadn't done for a long time, since he had damaged his head, painfully aware that it would be their last kiss ever.

"I know," she mumbled, her voice a mere audible whisper.

That was the last thing she said. Her breathing became more and more erratic and slow. Diego was still holding her cold hand, crying silently, but she wasn't moving anymore. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was relaxed, slightly open. Over the next few minutes, Diego thought several times she had passed away, but she would suddenly take a deep breath again, startling him, until she finally relaxed and exhale for the last time.

The loud bang on the wall, together with the chilling cry which was a raw mixture of anger, frustration, physical and emotional pain, told the mourners waiting outside the room that Cristina had passed away.

ZZZZZ

**A.N ****– Yes, I've done it. I killed my darling! What a difficult thing to do. But, despite the complaints of the readers who didn't like the non-D/V pairing from the beginning, to the point to refuse to read this story… what can I say? ****THIS IS A D/V STORY****, only not the usual kind. It has always been a D/V story, but I couldn't say so or it would have been too obvious Cristina had to go. And she did, in style, poor thing. So, if you know any of those inflexible, stiff readers, please spread the word: "that is a D/V story. Don't be fooled by the appearances. Go and read it, get out of your comfort zone for once in your life." **

**Please let me know what you think. Are you happy Cristina is gone? Are you sad? I am sad. I am definitely sad. Very sad. But it had to be done. I had to kill my darling. Actually, this chapter was outlined when I started Part 2 of this story. Other than including all the points of the challenges along the way, I didn't know when and I didn't know how I would get to this point, only that it would be a long way of trouble and angst for Victoria, because after all, it was only her fault she married Juan. And I had to explore the idea of amnesia to have them competing for Diego's love. But, the word count went out of control and Part 3 has become a never-ending story.**

**Actually, it is not finished yet. Please, leave your review and keep reading. Keep me happy and motivated so I can carry on writing. It is hard to be motivated when the review count is so low.**

**New chapters on the way (hopefully, not too many) before the final End.**

**Thanks for your interest in this story. **


	52. Chapter 52 - Insanity

**Chapter 73 – Insanity**

"You have to eat, Diego," Victoria said, moving a plate of albóndigas soup that was already on the table closer to him. "Come on, if only a little."

He shook his head and his long, now bony fingers pushed the plate back to its original position, away from him. He did that with his left hand, because his broken right hand was immobile inside a bulky bandage. Over the last few days he had hardly eaten anything, and it was already showing. He looked much thinner, and his face looked edgier with dark circles under his eyes due to the lack of sleep. The only reason he didn't show an unkempt madman's beard was because Victoria insisted to shave his face every morning, and he let her do it as if it wasn't happening. Obviously, he wasn't healing emotionally after Cristina's death, but all his family and friends were worried that he was losing his good health too, looking physically ill as well. But he hardly reacted to any of their efforts to communicate and care for him. As if he wasn't there. He could stare at a wall for hours, lost in thought, swimming in his deep sense of guilt, regret, grief and sadness. He would have forgotten to breathe if that wasn't done automatically by his clever lungs, languishing like an old flower in a dry pot.

Suddenly that evening, in a completely unexpected way, he sprang into action shortly after rejecting his meal. He left the table with an abrupt, hasty move, and then walked briskly to the library. By the time Don Alejandro, Don Francisco, Felipe and Victoria got there, he had disappeared through the secret door. The men looked at each other, and then at Victoria, hesitating by the fireplace.

"Don Alejandro, don't worry about me. I know he is Zorro. Cristina told me," Victoria said, sensing the cause for their uneasiness.

"Did she? When?"

"Just before she died. Well, she didn't tell me, she made me realize by myself. I am so sorry. When I was in love with Zorro, I was so blind I didn't realize it was him all along."

"I know that feeling. So was I. Blind as a bat," the old don agreed.

"Please, don't waste any more time here. Let's go with him, wherever place he is gone to," Victoria urged.

Don Alejandro nodded and actioned the switch to open the secret entrance. Immediately, they could hear loud noises of objects being thrown around, and the distinctive sound of glass shattering in a million pieces. They rushed downstairs to find a frightening vision of Diego annihilating everything around him, possessed by a blind, destructive fury. He had already broken all the laboratory equipment and he was in the process to destroy the rest of Zorro's belongings.

"Diego, my son, stop!" Don Alejandro begged. "Please! That won't help!"

"Leave me alone!" Diego shouted without looking at them, while lifting his heavy mahogany chair. He smashed it against the wall, with a force hard to believe he could possess in his current emaciated state. His broken hand hurt terribly, but he could not stop himself.

Toronado moved nervously in his stall, dancing from side to side, agitated and frightened to see his master behaving like that. He neighed loudly, stumping on the ground with his right hand, calling for his attention, but Diego didn't even hear him.

Next, Diego grabbed Zorro's clothes from the rack and tore them apart, ripping the black silk in many pieces, and then threw the remains into the burner and set them on fire while his horrified family watched him from the bottom of the stairs, mesmerized by his reaction, which was totally out of character for him. At last, he grabbed Zorro's sword with both hands and furiously bang it on the walls with the intention to break it too, but the sword was made of strong Toledan steel and it just bounced off every time, taking a portion of the wall down. Diego spun around, yelling, hitting everything he encountered along the way, even the floor and the thick wooden posts and rafters. From the short distance, the onlookers feared Diego could cause some serious damage to himself, or even Toronado, if he continued slashing everything with his sword like that. In a moment of total madness, he held the sword up as if it was a stick and he tried to snap it against his thigh, cutting his hands and his leg in the futile attempt to break the sword.

"_Dios mío!_ He's gone totally insane!" Don Alejandro cried. With disregard for his own safety, he ran to Diego's side and snatched Zorro's sword from his bleeding hands before he could hit himself again with it, and then threw it away to the other side of the room. The sword slid along the floor with a continuous, screeching noise. When it stopped, Diego slumped into his father's arms, and they both slid down to the floor in a bundle.

"I killed her!" Diego cried while sobbing uncontrollably. "She would be alive if Zorro didn't exist! I hate him! I HATE HIM!"

"No, Diego, it's not your fault. It is not Zorro's fault either. Sometimes bad things just happen. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but she chose to be there, to save you."

"No! She died because of me! I could have prevented this, but I didn't!" he continued crying out loud, sobbing with his face buried on his father's shoulder. "And I couldn't remember her! I couldn't remember her… I really couldn't… Why?! WHY?!"

Victoria could not take it any longer, and burst into tears too, deeply moved by Diego's raw anguish.

"Felipe, get doctor Hernández, please. Quick!" Don Francisco said, slapping the youngster shoulder to get him out of the trance, and he walked the few steps down into the cave to help his friend.

"Get me some rugs to stop the bleeding," Don Alejandro said, pointing to the cabinet where Zorro kept the medical supplies. He was holding his sobbing, convulsing son as tight as he could so he could not try any more crazy antics, applying pressure with his left hand on the bleeding wound on Diego's thigh.

Felipe left at once. Tears flew away from his face all the way to Los Angeles, while he galloped against the wind as fast as his pinto horse could go. His adoptive father first had lost his memory, and now he had lost his mind. What would be next?

ZZZ

"I am afraid you are right. Your son is physically and emotionally sick, deeply disturbed. He has lost a lot of weight during the past few days. I had to give him a hefty dose of laudanum to calm him down and get him to bed, because he was extremely agitated. What an explosive late reaction he is suffering to the tragic events," doctor Hernández said when he came into the library. Don Alejandro was waiting there, so moved by Diego's current mental state he preferred to wait outside the room while the doctor tended for him. Listening to his son's crazy and desperate wailing made his skin crawl, and it was glad that sound was over.

"What about his wounds? Are they serious?" Don Alejandro asked. "His leg was bleeding quite a lot."

"He was lucky that the sword landed flat on his leg, and it didn't cut him deeper. I stitched up all the injuries in his leg and hands; they should heal all right."

"How is he now? Should I come and stay with him?"

"He is resting now, heavily sedated, probably sleeping for the first time since Cristina passed away."

"Doctor, he feels responsible for her death. The guilt is eating him up inside."

"I know. There is not much we can do about it. He has to accept it himself; he has to go through his own grieving process. At the moment, I think it should be better to keep using the laudanum to keep him calmed and resting, at least for a few days, but don't abuse of it," the doctor said, handing Don Alejandro a bottle with the medicine. "You know he is strong; he had pulled through much worse than this before. But he will need time. I will be back tomorrow. Good night."

"Thank you. Buenas noches," Don Alejandro said, seeing the old doctor to the entrance. After he closed the door behind him, he looked at the bottle of laudanum and shook his head, apprehensive. He had seen people abusing the substance before. They had turned into slow, permanently stunned human beings, and he didn't like the idea of Diego becoming one on those. Not again. It was bad enough he had to pretend to be "slow" in public for so long; he should not do it for real this time. However, at the moment, they didn't have much choice but to use the laudanum, because Diego was a danger to himself.

ZZZZZ


	53. Chapter 53 - The Judge from Monterey

**Chapter 74 – The Judge from Monterey**

The same as Don Alejandro, Victoria was glad the wailing was over. She was in her room, alone, because her eyes were sore and red with all the tears she was shedding and she didn't want to see anybody, nor let them see her in that state. She needed to be on her own for a while before she could regain control, before she could come out with a casual smile plastered on her face to take care of her son and Sofía, as she had done since Cristina had passed away.

Diego had gone mental. Witnessing his bizarre reaction down at the secret cave had been a frightening, disturbing experience for Victoria, and she was too shocked to carry on as if nothing had happened.

As she had Cristina's blessing —or maybe not a _blessing_, but at least she could call it _permission—_ over the last few days Victoria had fantasized about a future with Diego, a future where they all would live happily ever after as a big family, but that dream was looking more and more like an unreachable utopia, and she feared it could never happen.

Victoria thought she was not worthy of him. Not after rejecting Zorro to marry Juan, and not after what happened with Roberto. But, above all, because she felt mortified and fazed about finding out Diego had been Zorro all along, right under her nose, from the very beginning. It was too humiliating. She wanted to be angry at him for not telling her on time before she got married, but the deep shame she felt didn't let her. Besides, she couldn't be angry at him now, anyway, when he was suffering so much. That would be inhumane. She could only hope he would never get the courage to tell her his secret, and that he would remain in love with his deceased wife now that he could remember their past together, so she could pretend she didn't know about Zorro, somehow keeping her pride intact, at least with him.

With determination, she wiped her tears and at that very moment she decided she would keep her promise to take care of Sofía, but she would never make a move with Diego, no matter what her devious heart would tell her. She was too embarrassed, and she felt she would never get over that deeply annoying and mortifying feeling. Ever.

Every time she remembered all those vile comments she had made about him when she was in love with Zorro, but not with Diego, made her feel utterly stupid. _How could I be so blind and callous back then? _And then marrying Juan… and then shortly after telling Diego she loved him when it was too late, when she was already pregnant with another man's child, of all things… _He probably thought I was a fool, the most annoying woman on Earth, coming back to him when I was married and he was about to marry Cristina_. She covered her face with her hands when she thought about that passionate kiss they had shared shortly before he got married, the sense of embarrassment too overwhelming to bear. And then, finally, her outrageous behaviour at the hacienda, fighting for him with his wife when he suffered from amnesia… _How low was that? No wonder Cristina despised me._ She shook her head, trying to get rid of all those humiliating and upsetting thoughts, but they would not go away, as they were stuck in her mind and would return over and over, much to her chagrin, no matter how much she wished to break the cycle and get free of the shame.

No, she would never be worthy of his love, and she would never seek it. The only thing she could do was taking care of them, as she had promised to Cristina, but never trying to get involved in a relationship. She would deny her own feelings if she had to, to herself and to others. After all, she had been in denial all her life, so she could carry on fooling herself just as before. No big deal.

She stood up and walked to the door, ready to face the situation. The most important thing at the moment were not her erratic feelings, but to get Diego back into a positive frame of mind to prevent him from harming himself again. The thought that he could commit suicide was unbearable but, after all, possible in his current state of mind, and she could not allow that to happen.

ZZZ

Imanol Rivera was delighted when the recently appointed Judge arrived from Monterey in the afternoon. The alcaide at the presidio in Santa Bárbara had been at a loss since he had arrived at Los Angeles, having to deal with a dead alcalde, accused of being a murdered himself by Zorro, and the aftermath of the tragic events at the hacienda De la Vega.

Initially, soldiers had stayed in the house, but Imanol ordered them to withdraw to leave the family grieve in peace, monitoring the situation at the hacienda from the distance, because Don Alejandro, Don Francisco and Don Diego were still fugitives from justice until proven innocent on a second trial, and should not be left unsupervised. Imanol knew Don Alejandro, and he knew he could trust him to cooperate with the judge when he would take charge of the investigation, because all the issues about him escaping from jail would have to be clarified, so he left him alone at that difficult time.

Then he wasn't sure about Sergeant Mendoza's status. Was he a hero or a vindictive villain? Mendoza was still in jail, as he didn't know what to do with him. He had killed the alcalde in cold blood and that was, from any point of view, unacceptable, regardless of the real identity of the man he had killed, who now was dead and could not answer any questions to clarify the situation. And then, he had to deal with that soldier they found unconscious in Doña Cristina's bedroom, bleeding from a nasty wound on his smashed face. When the fatally wounded woman was taken to her bed, they moved that man to another room, but he died before he ever regained consciousness, such was the force of the blow he had received, presumably from Zorro. Nobody knew where he had come from, other than he was recruited by Gabriel Salamanca together with four other men, who were nowhere to be seen, as they all had deserted the Army. Even the alcalde's secretary had disappeared.

And finally, on top of everything else, Don Alejandro had mentioned a possible plot to buy all the land in Los Angeles with some mysterious purpose, and he hadn't got to the bottom of it. In fact, he hadn't even started to scratch the surface.

Yes, Imanol Rivera was delighted. He was a military man, not used to deal with complicated investigations of any kind, and now he could leave everything in the Judge's capable hands and go back to Santa Bárbara to rule the Presidio, a much easier, straight-forward task for him.

ZZZ

The Judge got out of the stagecoach in the middle of the plaza. He looked around, blinking under the glaring, early afternoon sun. Everything looked exactly the same as the last time he had been there. He was hungry, and glanced at the tavern longing for a meal, craving the delicious _sopa de albóndigas_ he remembered so well. However, with a strong will, he headed for the alcalde's office instead, his first priority. The soup could wait.

At the office, he met the alcaide of the presidio in Santa Bárbara, who told him everything he knew about the situation in Los Angeles, looking too willing to wash his hands of the matter. The Judge showed him an old, aged and discoloured paper displaying a search order and a drawing of Roberto Malpartida, and the alcaide identified him as the deceased alcalde.

"Yes, that's the man. A bit older now, obviously, but the resemblance is outstanding. That's a very good drawing," the alcaide said.

"Yes, it is. Apparently, one of the citizens in this pueblo drew this a few years ago, in Madrid, or so I was told. I believe he is a gifted artist."

"And who is that talented painter?"

"Don Diego de la Vega."

"That man is not taking very well the death of his wife, I'm afraid, not at all. What a shame. I believe he is losing it. His father is afraid he may commit suicide."

"Is he? Well, in that case I should hurry up and visit the hacienda de la Vega as soon as possible," the Judge said. "Sergeant Mendoza sent for me to repeat the trial that declared Don Alejandro and Don Francisco guilty of murdering alcalde De Soto, and also one of their neighbours and his daughter. Where is he?"

"That's another complicated issue. Sergeant Mendoza is in jail. He killed Gabriel Salamanca in cold blood. I mean, the alcalde, that man you call Roberto Malpartida."

"Why is he in jail?"

"I'm not sure. But I didn't know what to do with him until your arrival."

"I better talk to him then and get him out of there. After all, he is a hero, not a felon. He stopped one of the most dangerous criminals from Spain."

"Can I leave everything in your hands now and return to Santa Bárbara this evening?"

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"No, not really. I told you everything I know."

"In that case, I don't know why you should stay here any longer. Thank you for your intervention and your help in this complicated matter. I am going to see the sergeant now. Goodbye, señor Rivera, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you to. _Adiós_," Imanol said, shaking hands with that man before he disappeared through the back door to check on Mendoza, followed by his _alguaciles._

ZZZ

"Good afternoon, Sergeant Mendoza."

Mendoza was sitting in the hard, uncomfortable bench in one of the cells, looking bored. He lifted his head to check on the man who had addressed him, recognizing him.

"Good afternoon, señor Sauras. What are you doing here, back in our pueblo?" Mendoza said, standing up to get close to the bars and the short man standing behind them, the naval auditor from Monterey, Ernesto Sauras.

"I have been promoted by the Mexican Government. I am the new Judge from Monterey, with powers to deal in military as well as civil matters in the whole of California. You sent for me."

"You are the Judge?" Mendoza said, with his jaw dropped.

"Open the door, please," Ernesto ordered to the soldier guarding the cells, who comply willingly, as he felt sorry for the sergeant. "I am going to have a meal at the tavern. Would you like to join me, and tell me everything you know in an informal manner?"

"Really? Thank you, señor Sauras. The food I ate here in jail during the last week had nothing to do with the delicious meals from the tavern," Mendoza said, coming out of the cell, rubbing his abdomen with anticipation.

"Come on then. You have a lot to explain, and I am keen to listen to the whole story."

ZZZZZ


	54. Chapter 54 - The Auditor's Return

**Chapter 75 – The Auditor's return **

Over his career in law, Ernesto had been accused many times of getting too involved in the proceedings and the investigations of the cases he followed, getting too personal, using unorthodox methods to reach conclusions. In truth, he relied too much on his gift to know people, and he always wanted to get accounts of the witnesses and defendants involved in the criminal proceedings, either in or out of court, but always face to face to watch their reactions and body language. As lawyers were seldom present during these informal, unofficial encounters, many times the information he gathered using these irregular methods could not be used in court, but it was useful to reach conclusions over the innocence or guilt of the defendants. This case would be no exception on his level of involvement because it was already personal even before he started the proceedings, as he had been following the whereabouts of Roberto Malpartida for years.

He had got the position as the Monterey Judge partly because of his own merits, and partly because many Judges and law enforcers had been deported back to Spain by the new Mexican Government. Unlike them, he had no problem to become Mexican if he had to, as long as he could stay in California.

Shortly after Ernesto was appointed Judge, he accidently stumbled upon the request for information Sergeant Mendoza had initially sent out to the authorities about Roberto, right after De Soto was killed. At that office, nobody else had recognized the name, and the request had been filed. Ernesto was upset because the date of that request was more than two months ago, and nobody had told him about it. He decided to return to Los Angeles to investigate the case because Roberto Malpartida could still be in the area, although it was unlikely.

While getting ready for the trip, two soldiers arrived from Los Angeles with another request for help from Sergeant Mendoza. The story they related was confusing, to say the least. Ernesto tried to get on a ship to travel to Los Angeles faster than by land, but none was available to set sail immediately, not for at least a week or even longer. So, a contingent of prosecutors and _alguaciles_ had escorted him and the stage coach all the way to Los Angeles, travelling as fast as they could. However, he was late, and the unlikely hero, Jaime Mendoza, apparently had dispatched one of the most dangerous criminals in recent history.

At the tavern, over a plate of albóndigas soup, Ernesto listened to the account Mendoza gave him about everything that had happened in the pueblo since alcalde De Soto died in his arms. The description of the wound inflicted by the killer matched the methods used by Roberto Malpartida, and De Soto had indeed identified that man as his attacker.

Ernesto knew a lot about that vicious criminal. At the beginning of his career, as aide of the prosecutor in Madrid, he had been involved in the investigations regarding the assassination of the Duke of Osuna and his family by an anarchist terrorist called Roberto Malpartida. At that time, the alguaciles had moved heaven and earth to find the man responsible for that terrible crime, but he disappeared without a trace. They had the testimony of two main witnesses: Ignacio De Soto, who identified Roberto as the killer, and had confessed about the whole plot; and Diego de la Vega, who after confronting Roberto when he escaped from the theatre, had contributed with a drawing of that man's face to launch a global search across all the Spanish territories, including the colonies. For years, the authorities were unable to find any clues of his whereabouts, until a witness —a defendant on another trial, accused of piracy— identified Roberto as a deckhand in one of the numerous "corso" vessels sailing in the Caribbean. For a reduction of his own sentence, he told them about Roberto's new criminal skills, the methods he used to kill people, and also related some of the crimes he had committed while serving on that ship. By that time, Ernesto was already working for the Navy, and followed the case with interest. When the Royal Navy finally caught up with the ship and the soldiers boarded the _Desesperanza_, Roberto wasn't there. The captain told them they had left Roberto behind in Cadiz, as he didn't return to the ship on time before it set sail. The investigators sent back to Spain to launch a search in Cádiz found out Roberto had been visiting the archive in nearby Sevilla on a daily basis for several weeks, and then he had banished. That was the last news they had on his whereabouts, until now.

When he attended the hearing in Los Angeles, Ernesto was surprised to find De Soto and De la Vega together in that remote place. They didn't remember him at all as his contact with them in Madrid was minimal, but he did remember them as the main witnesses. He didn't mentioned anything on the subject, but he thought that if Roberto ever found out about their location he could be very tempted to seek revenge, especially on De Soto, who was meant to be his accomplice in the Duke's assassination and not the "traitor" who pointed at him as the man responsible for the crimes against the Spanish Crown.

As Mendoza's account progressed, finding out about Diego's accident and his temporary disability and amnesia was upsetting for the judge, but not so much as the news about Cristina's fate. The alcaide had already told Ernesto about it, but not in so much detail as Mendoza.

Ernesto knew Diego was Zorro. The fact that his wife died trying to protect him only confirmed what he already knew since the last time he visited Los Angeles. Otherwise, it didn't make sense that Cristina had gotten on the way, unless she was Zorro's lover. Which in fact, she was, as Zorro could not be other but Diego de la Vega. Besides, at the hacienda, Zorro revealed the alcalde's real name, and only Diego could know about it.

"Sergeant, you did a commendable job in this matter, absolutely praiseworthy," Ernesto said when Mendoza finished relating the events. He liked the simple, good nature of that man, who seemed to be quite unlucky with the alcaldes he had to work with. "I'll see personally that you are promoted to Lieutenant."

"Really?" Mendoza said with a broad grin on his face. "Madre de Dios! _Lieutenant Mendoza_," he said moving his hand across in front of his face, as if framing an imaginary plate with his name on it. "It sounds great, thank you very much, señor Sauras."

"You are very welcome," Ernesto said, standing up. "That meal was delicious, but I have work to do. I think I'll better pay Don Diego a visit and give him my condolences."

"Can I go with you? I was thrown in jail and I never had the chance to tell him how sorry I am he lost his wife in such tragic manner."

"I don't see why not. Let's go."

ZZZ

Diego had been asleep all afternoon and evening. Don Alejandro watched him from the chair by the side of the bed, quietly reflecting on the events. He knew how miserable a man could feel after losing his wife prematurely, as it had happened to him, but at least in his case his wife died after a long battle with illness and he had time to prepare; nothing as dramatic, sudden, and unexpected as Cristina's departure. In any case, it would never be the same feeling for Diego, because Don Alejandro could not feel guilty about it, as it was God's will Felicidad passed away, but Diego was obviously consumed by his own sense of responsibility for Cristina's death. Diego was not only feeling sad for the loss; it was much deeper than that. He probably thought he didn't deserve to live, as he had allowed Roberto to carry on living to kill Cristina.

_Tricky_, Don Alejandro thought. _But there must be a way to help him to get rid of that sense of guilt_.

When Diego would eventually wake up, he would watch him like a hawk, before he could do something stupid and irreversible. Hopefully, Diego would not try to kill himself if any thoughts about his daughter would cross his mind. Surely he could not leave Sofía an orphan. Not voluntarily, not. He would need to remind Diego of that as soon as possible, just in case his clouded mind didn't let him think about Sofía.

ZZZ

"Señor Sauras. Welcome back to Los Angeles," Don Alejandro said, surprised to find the auditor waiting in the parlour. "Good evening, Sergeant. I see you have been released from jail. It was time."

"Yes, I have, Don Alejandro. He got me out," Mendoza said, pointing at the judge.

"What's the reason for your visit to our pueblo?" Don Alejandro asked, addressing Ernesto.

"Good evening, Don Alejandro. I have been promoted since the last time I was here. I am the new Judge in Monterey. Sergeant Mendoza sent for me, so here I am."

"You are the judge we have been waiting for?"

"Yes."

"You were a Navy Auditor not so long ago. That's a huge boost for your career, isn't it?"

"Yes, you can say so. It is the aftermath of deporting so many royalist back to Spain. There was a sudden lack of qualified law professionals and the new Governor thought I would be suitable for the position. I hope I will not disappoint him."

"I am sure you'll be fair in your sentences," Don Alejandro said. "Are you going to repeat the trial then?"

"Not at the moment. I need to investigate what happened here, but I don't think you were involved in any wrong doing. Unfortunately, I wasn't informed of the presence of Roberto Malpartida in the area; otherwise I would have travelled back to Los Angeles much sooner, and prevent Doña Cristina's tragic death, God rest her soul. I am very sorry for your loss."

"So am I," Mendoza said, contrite. "I am so sorry, Don Alejandro. I should have shot that bastard the moment Zorro mentioned his name, before he could shoot Doña Cristina, but I could not believe it. After all that time wasted looking for alcalde De Soto's murderer, he had been hiding in plain sight under my nose."

Ernesto showed them the drawing in the old reward paper.

"Yes! That's him! This drawing is so accurate. It's like looking at him in the flesh," Mendoza said.

"Yes. Who did this drawing?" Don Alejandro asked.

"Your son drew it."

"Diego? When?"

"In Madrid. How unfortunate your son suffered from amnesia at that crucial time when Ignacio de Soto was murdered, because he knew that man. What a coincidence Zorro knew him as well."

Ernesto watched Don Alejandro, who displayed the right signs, looking uncomfortable. _So, now you know what you didn't know before._

"Diego told Zorro about Roberto when he partially recovered his memory," the old don said, rushing his words. "Actually, my son didn't recover his memories completely until that awful time Cristina was shot. The doctor said it was the shock what brought the all memories back for him." _Damn, damn, damn! Diego was not in the patio when Cristina was shot!_ Don Alejandro rebuked himself.

Ernesto's lip curved a little, only slightly, but he didn't say anything.

"I need to talk to your son."

"He is asleep."

"You'll have to wake him up then, sorry."

"No, you don't understand. He is deeply asleep, sedated. The doctor had to give him a large dose of laudanum to calm him down when he… when he…" Don Alejandro couldn't find the words that would make sense. In the end, he went for the most shocking news. "He tried to commit suicide this afternoon."

"What? Don Diego? Never!" Mendoza said.

"That's a real shame. Can I see him?"

"No, I don't think that's a good idea. I…"

"Don Alejandro, I don't think you are deliberately trying to obstruct the course of justice here, but I need to remind you this is an official investigation, and I really need to see your son. Now."

"Very well. Come with me. He is in his room."

When they entered Diego's room, they found Victoria by the bed, wiping off her tears. She flushed red when she saw them coming in.

"Señora Ortíz, how nice to see you again. What a shame we have to meet under these tragic circumstances," Ernesto said. He couldn't help thinking how convenient such circumstances were for the tavern owner, as she loved Diego and also Zorro. He wondered if she had finally found out the masked man's secret identity. _Sure she should know by now!_

"Good evening, señor Sauras."

"How is Don Diego? Can I talk to him?"

"He is asleep."

Ernesto walked up to the bed and nudged Diego, shaking him. He didn't react. They were right, he looked sedated. Ernesto looked then at the bandages covering Diego's hands. He considered asking his father about them, but he knew the old man was going to struggle to give him a coherent answer, so he let it go. It didn't matter. He could talk to Diego later.

"I see. In that case, I'll talk to him when he wakes up. Please let me know when he is ready to provide the information I need. Now, Don Alejandro, the alcaide mentioned something about a plot to buy the land in this territory. Can you tell me something about it?"

"Certainly. Let's go to the library," Don Alejandro said. He escorted Ernesto to the door, and from there, he turned to look at Victoria. He had also been thinking about her feelings for Diego, and he knew they should have a talk about it.

ZZZ

Don Miguel's real name was Alfredo. He was sick of being Don Miguel, and could not wait to leave Los Angeles for good and recover his identity. The only reason why he hadn't left yet was because Roberto's first hand had convinced him there was still a chance they could find the treasure. Everybody else had left already, and Armando was the only one still around. He was hiding in his hacienda during the day, in the secret room they had built when all the other men were there, and he travelled to that spot close to the hacienda de la Vega at night to carry on searching.

Armando was adamant the treasure had to be close to that boulder, but he was struggling to find it. In the confusion after Roberto and Cristina were shot at the hacienda de la Vega, he had taken the map and the old document from the alcalde's office and had travelled to Don Miguel's to tell the others what had happened. At the mention of the Presidio alcaide, everybody panicked and left the pueblo that night, including the other men that were pretending to be Mexican soldiers. All men except Tomás, who was unconscious after the hard punch he had received, dying from that injury the next day.

Alfredo knew they had to hurry up, now more than ever. The Judge from Monterey had arrived and, for what he had heard, he was an intelligent man, very thorough, who would probably not need much time to make a connection between the two brothers.

He had always feared this crazy business of buying the properties or bullying the owners out of their haciendas so they could look for a treasure buried somewhere in the land for hundreds of years could end in disaster, but he didn't imagine he would lose his brother in such a dramatic way. After he survived the arrow shot, he thought Roberto could survive anything. He was mistaken. And now he was alone, feeling vulnerable, and he didn't like it. Not at all. So he had to trust Armando.

ZZZZZ


	55. Chapter 55 - Guilt

**Chapter 76 – Guilt**

After talking to the Judge, answering all his questions, Don Alejandro spent all night fretting about it, as it was obvious Ernesto would suspect Diego was Zorro, especially after the previous trial and now having Cristina dying to protect him.

The Judge would return to check on Diego, but he could not allow that man talking to his son while he was on that state on mind, because to purge his perceived guilt and responsibility of killing Cristina by creating Zorro, Diego might willingly confess to be Zorro so he could be arrested and executed.

In the morning, Don Alejandro prepared a bowl of soup with a large amount of laudanum in it. When Diego woke up, looking confused and still very sleepy, he encouraged him to eat the soup. Initially he was reluctant to eat anything, but in the end he did, as a small child would, as Don Alejandro forced spoon after spoon into his mouth despite his weak protests. Shortly after, Diego fell back into a deep sleep, right on time when Ernesto Sauras came back to the hacienda.

"Good morning, Don Alejandro. Can I talk to your son now? Is he awake?"

"Good morning, Señor Sauras. I'm sorry, but Diego is still asleep. You can come in and check on him if you want to, but he won't talk to you."

Ernesto came inside, and Don Alejandro took him back to Diego's room. He checked on him, as it was true: Diego was still unresponsive.

"He should be awake by now," Ernesto said. Then, he noticed a bowl on the bedside table. He took it to sniff the remains of soup at the bottom. "What's this?"

Don Alejandro blushed, and hesitated for a moment.

_Come on, Don Alejandro. Don't do this to yourself_, Ernesto thought, amused. _Don't lie, please_.

"That's his breakfast. He ate a little bit and went back to sleep."

Ernesto dipped his finger in the bowl, and then licked it.

"It tastes like laudanum. Did you give more medicine to your son this morning?"

"Yes, I did," Don Alejandro said, giving up, realizing lying to that man would get him nowhere. "Doctor Hernández advised to keep administering the laudanum for a few days, to keep Diego calmed and rested. We are afraid he may try to commit suicide again."

"I see. Please, don't give him anymore until I talk to him, Don Alejandro. Otherwise —"

"Yes," he interrupted, annoyed. "I will be accused of obstructing the course of Justice. I know the drill, thank you."

Ernesto chuckled inwardly.

"Good. I'll be back in the evening then. _Hasta luego_."

ZZZ

"Victoria, can I talk to you for a moment?" Don Alejandro said in the afternoon. Diego was still asleep, and Victoria was by his side, watching over him.

"Yes of course," she said. "Where? Here?"

"No, I think it would be better if we go to another room." He didn't want to risk Diego hearing that conversation.

They left Diego alone and walked to the study. Don Alejandro closed the door behind them.

"Please, take a seat," he said, holding the back rest of a chair for her. When she did, he sat down in front of her. "Sorry for the secrecy, but I really would like to know your intentions, Victoria. Sorry if I come across as too blunt, because you may think this is none of my business, but obviously, now I know you loved Diego, as himself and as Zorro, and I also know he loved you too. Every time I see you close to him, I have to wonder: do you have the intention to get involved in a relationship with my son now that he is a widow?"

Victoria immediately blushed red as a ripe tomato. Was that the question in everybody's mind then, and not only in hers?

"Please, Don Alejandro, don't. Don't ask me that. The whole thing is too embarrassing. I should have known Diego was Zorro. I really should."

"So did I. I should have known, the same as you, so don't worry about it."

"I haven't come to terms with that yet. I could bang my head on a wall a million times for not realizing before." She was looking down to the floor, mortified.

"He was too good to carry on his deception. I know, we were such fools," he said, tapping her knee gently, smiling. "But please, tell me: do you, or do you not want to get involved with Diego now?"

"I… I… I don't know. Cristina asked me to act like a mother to Sofía. Actually, she told me I should look after him and create a new family, but I'm not sure about that. Obviously, he's not ready, and I don't think he will be for a long, long, time," she paused for a moment, twisting her hands over her lap. "And I'm not ready either. I'm too embarrassed now for a relationship with him to work."

"Well, don't be. You saw his reaction yesterday, and how he has behaved since Cristina passed away. He is deeply disturbed, and I'm really concerned he may try to kill himself. Getting involved with him may not be an outrageous idea under the circumstances, Victoria, if that brings him back to the land of the living and gives him something to look forward to."

"I don't know, Don Alejandro. It may backfire in a really bad way if it makes him feel guiltier about Cristina."

"Yeah, there is that as well… Hum. I don't know then."

They kept silent for a while, both lost in thought, thinking on the pros and cons of such a risky move.

"I think I'll be there for him just as a friend at the moment. I don't want to rush into anything and make matters worse. I also feel bad about Cristina, as if I'm taking advantage of her death, as a vulture would do. The same as him, I'm not ready for a relationship right now. I would like to, but I'm not."

"I think you are right. Sorry, I can't think straight. I just wanted to know your intentions, Victoria, that's all. Let's go back with him, shall we?"

ZZZ

Ernesto spent the rest of the day gathering more information about the events, talking to different witnesses. In the late afternoon, accompanied by the alguaciles, he paid a visit to Don Miguel at his hacienda.

"Good afternoon, Don Miguel. I am Ernesto Sauras, the appointed Judge of Monterey. I'm here to investigate the murder of the former alcalde Ignacio de Soto, and the circumstances surrounding the death of the new alcalde, Gabriel Salamanca, whose real name was Roberto Malpartida. This is a search warrant to look for evidences in your property," he said, producing a piece of paper. "I hope you will collaborate in the investigation."

"Yes, of course, come in," Don Miguel said, opening the door wide to let them inside. He was nervous, but tried to display a calm he didn't feel. "How can I help you?"

"Let's start with the basics. What was your relationship with the alcalde?" Ernesto said while the alguaciles searched the house.

"Relationship? None, other than courtesy to the authority figure in this pueblo. I hardly knew the man. I have been a resident in Los Angeles only for a few months. I didn't really know the former alcalde either."

"I understand you visited the alcalde at the garrison when he was sick, after being injured with an arrow."

"Yes, I did, and so did many other citizens at that time. It was a polite, courtesy call to show interest in his recovery."

Don Miguel was nervous, fidgeting while answering the questions, and it was too obvious for Ernesto he was lying.

"What made you buy all those properties in this territory? Why did you move to Los Angeles?"

"I wanted to create the largest ranch in the area. That was my intention, and it still is."

"How would you do that? The properties you bought are not connected."

Don Miguel hesitated, with his mind blank.

"Were you involved in any way with the attacks to the De la Vega and Blasco haciendas?"

"No. Absolutely not. I offered to buy their properties first, but as they didn't want to sell, I bought the others, with the hope they would reconsider at some point."

"What about poisoning the water in Don Manuel's and Don Pedro's?"

"I don't know anything about that. During the trial, it was clear the De la Vegas had done it, as they had the poisoning stones in their property, where the soldiers found them."

Don Miguel was sweating profusely by then, and his confidence was diminishing greatly with every new question. _I should have left this forsaken pueblo ages ago_, he thought.

"The arsenic stones could have been planted there. It would not be the first time in criminal history someone has been blamed and convicted of a crime based on false proof," Ernesto said. Watching Don Miguel's reactions to his questions was enough to convince him he was involved in the whole plot, and he was guilty. But now he would have to prove it.

Ernesto carried on with the questioning, and then walked around the house, looking intently for anything useful. The alguaciles had not found anything abnormal to report, but he wasn't so sure. He always liked to check personally in case they would miss anything. For example, with a quick glance he realized the property was unkempt and filthy, and he didn't see any servants around.

"Where are your servants? Don't you have a house maid and a cook, at least?"

"I did. But they left. I have been looking to employ more service, but I've been unable to find anybody suitable. If you know someone, please let me know," Don Miguel said quickly, with a forced smile. The truth was Roberto's men had been self-sufficient while staying in the house, so they didn't need to employ anybody that later on could become a witness of their criminal activities if anything went wrong. Alfredo was glad it had been the case, or the maid could be talking right then about a bunch of rough-looking men who used to hide in a secret room whenever anybody visited the hacienda.

"Yes, I will, of course," Ernesto said with a similar false smile. "What about your ranch hands? Don't you have cattle? Or crops?"

"Yes, I do. In the other haciendas. I have to establish myself first before I can expand in the cattle market," he said, sweating again. _Please, Lord, let this torture be over soon_, he prayed.

"I see. So, you live here alone in this large house... Well, sorry for troubling you, Don Miguel. I'll carry on with the investigation as I can't see anything significant in your property at the moment. I will need to check your other properties as well. Just a reminder: you are not allowed to leave Los Angeles under any circumstances while this investigation takes place. If you do, you will be considered a fugitive from justice. Is that clear?"

"Yes, it is. But I am not going anywhere. Please, let me know if you need anything else. I'll be glad to help you in the investigation."

"Thank you. Good night, Don Miguel."

"Buenas noches."

It was already getting dark when they left, heading back to the hacienda De la Vega.

"This man is dirtier than a cesspool. This is going to be fun," Ernesto said to the alguaciles on the way there.

ZZZ

"Good evening Don Alejandro. I hope I can talk to your son now," Ernesto said.

"Yes, come in. He is awake now. He is having dinner."

"No more laudanum in the soup?"

"No," Don Alejandro said, irritated. "Of course not. Follow me."

They walked to Diego's room again. Victoria was there, feeding Diego a vegetable purée with a spoon because he still had both hands covered with the dressings. Besides, he was awake but he wasn't his usual self, and he wasn't up to the task to use a spoon to feed himself.

"Good evening, Don Diego. How are you feeling?" Ernesto said.

"I'm all right. Thank you," Diego said slowly, with an empty stare. Then he looked at Ernesto intently, narrowing his eyes. "Do I know you? You look familiar."

"This is Ernesto Sauras, Diego. You met him a couple of years ago, as a navy auditor investigating the death of Victoria's husband. He's been appointed Monterey Judge now."

Diego didn't say anything for a while, looking at Ernesto blankly again.

"Oh, yes. Right. He sells spoons at the market."

Bewildered by his answer, Ernesto shook his head and then started questioning Diego.

Don Alejandro watched his confused son trying to follow the conversation they were having about the events. He always answered vaguely and slowly, uninterested, yawning from time to time, looking tired. He was behaving now in a similar way he did when he damaged his head: slow, and unable to process any information. The old don decided then to stop giving Diego the laudanum and let him go back to his usual self, even if that meant to tie him to the bed so he would not try to harm himself again, and gag his mouth so he would not confess his secret identity to the Judge. Thankfully, Diego didn't mention anything about being Zorro, and Ernesto didn't ask about it either.

After a short while Ernesto gave up, frustrated. He excused himself, and got out of the room. Then he addressed Don Alejandro at the entrance.

"Don Alejandro, I'm afraid your son is still under the effects of his medication. Please don't administer anymore until I can have a real conversation with him. It is important that I do."

"Don't worry. It hurts to see him like this. It is a painful reminder of his mental status after he damaged his head and got amnesia. I don't want him to revert to that stage, not at all. Hopefully, he will be more alert later and he can answer all your questions."

"Yes, I hope so. I'll be back tomorrow evening then."

ZZZ

Don Miguel moved the table in the middle of the lounge out of the way, and then lifted the large Persian rug. On his knees, he opened the concealed door on the floor.

"Armando! Come on. It's time for you to find that damn cave!"

Armando was ready, and came out of the secret room quickly.

"Yes, of course it's time. I heard lots of footsteps before. What happened?"

"The Judge from Monterey was here with the alguaciles, asking questions. We don't have much time. You either find something over the next couple of days, or we'll have to leave empty handed. But it may be already too late to leave. The Judge threatened to declare me a fugitive from justice if I leave Los Angeles while he is conducting the investigation. And I won't get far without any money, as I spent it all buying this blooming land that I have to leave behind now!"

"Don't worry about that. They like threatening people with that so they cooperate. But you are right, if I don't find the treasure tonight, or tomorrow, we are leaving."

ZZZ

"Diego, how are you feeling today?" Don Alejandro asked in the morning when he saw him awake, alone in his room.

Diego was sitting up in bed, looking at the window. He turned his head and looked at his father with troubled eyes, not showing that unsettling blank stare anymore. Instead, his eyes were alive and bright, but red, and dim with tears.

"How do you think, Father?" he said in a harsh tone, upset. "Like shit. I feel like shit."

"Don't talk like that. I know how you feel, Diego, but you have to —"

"What do you know?" Diego interrupted, annoyed by his patronizing tone. "You have no idea!"

"Well, tell me then," Don Alejandro said, gently. He waited a few seconds, but Diego didn't say anything, turning his head to the window again to avoid his eyes.

"Diego, I know you are hurting, a lot, but you cannot carry on like this. Even if I would like to, I can't keep you drugged with the laudanum all the time. On the other hand, I'm afraid you may try to hurt yourself again, so maybe I'll do, even if get in trouble with the Judge for doing that."

"Is that what you gave me in that soup? Laudanum? No wonder I couldn't think straight yesterday."

"Yes, doctor Hernández left a bottle after you cut yourself with Zorro's sword."

"Don't mention that name, please."

"Diego, the Judge is investigating what happened here. He is going to ask you about Zorro, for sure, so I hope you don't do anything stupid. Don't give yourself up, please."

Diego was still looking at the window, not facing his father.

"He already knows I'm Zorro, so don't worry about it."

"What do you mean? Why is he not saying anything then?"

Diego sighed deeply and looked at his father again. It was pointless trying to avoid a conversation with him.

"Look, I think he already knew at the hearing but he let me alone, for whatever reason. And if he didn't know then, I'm sure he knows now. Even a blind man would realize now, after Cristina…" He stopped talking and burst into tears again. Ashamed, he tried to wipe them with the bandages covering his hands. Don Alejandro rushed to his side.

"Diego, please, don't torture yourself like this. Let it go. It wasn't your fault."

"It was my fault! I am the one that should be dead! Not her!" he cried. Don Alejandro held him by the shoulders, shaking him to stop the nonsense.

"Stop it! Think about Sofía, please. She needs you more than ever. Do you want her to become an orphan? Is that what you want?"

Diego looked at him through the tears, shaking his head.

"Stop thinking about dying then, and focus, please! It wasn't your fault. Cristina told you that, several times. I heard her."

"I should have killed the bastard, but I didn't!"

Don Alejandro let go of him and started pacing the room, until he stopped by the side of the bed again. Like Victoria, he felt like banging his head on a wall.

"Look. Doctor Hernández told me he feels guilty because he shouldn't have treated him, and then that son of a bitch would have died from his injuries. Mendoza thinks it is his fault because he didn't find Roberto sooner, and because he didn't kill him immediately after you mentioned the name, right before he shoot. Francisco thinks it is his fault because he couldn't open the secret door when he had to, and then he had to run all the way to the house instead, because otherwise he would have blown Roberto's brains out with the gun. And I feel guilty too, because I should have travelled faster to Santa Barbara. One less siesta along the way would have been enough to come back on time to avoid it. Can't you see? It is everybody's and nobody's fault at the same time! So stop blaming yourself, please."

"You can't be serious. How could that be your fault?" Diego said through the tears.

"Precisely. Because it's not. It's nobody's fault. God works in mysterious ways, Diego. Maybe He had a plan. We'll see." _Victoria, where are you? I could do with some help here_.

"Damn Him and His plan then!"

"Diego!" the old don exclaimed, shocked, making the sign of the cross on himself. "How can you say that?"

"Sorry, Father. I just need to be alone, please. Just leave me alone for a moment. Get out, close the door, and leave me alone. Please."

"No. I can't," Don Alejandro said, shaking his head firmly. "I'm not leaving."

"I'm not going to do anything, Father. Of course I don't want to leave Sofía an orphan. But I need to be alone, please, to calm down, and then I would like to see her. I have neglected her during the last week, as I did when I forgot about her, and I feel really bad about it. Let me cry all the tears I need to cry now, alone, and then I'll smile for her. I don't want her coming here to see me like this."

"All right, Diego. I'll wait outside. Take your time, and tell me when you are ready."

ZZZZZ


	56. Chapter 56 - Vega

**Chapter 77 – Vega**

"I'm sorry. Daddy has been an idiot," Diego said, cozy in bed with his daughter. "But now I remember all the things I had forgotten about you, sweetheart. And I'm never, ever again going to forget you," he said, kissing her head.

"Or Mum," she said, smiling weakly.

"Or course. I'll never forget your mother again. She was so special, like you," he said, stroking her head gently with his bandaged hand. "You have her hair, and her smile, and her courage. And you have been so brave, Sofía. I'm sure she is so proud watching you from heaven."

"She told me she is a star now. And you have to tell me which one."

"Yes, of course. I will, tonight, when the stars are up. I'll show you. I promise."

ZZZ

"How are you feeling, Diego?" Victoria said, coming into his room when he was alone.

"I'm all right, Victoria. Or at least, as all right as I can be, thanks," he said, showing her his hands, still covered with the bulky dressings.

"Is there anything you need? Anything I could bring you?"

"Actually, yes, there is one thing. I was going to ask Felipe, but I think he is busy at… the stables."

He coughed then, clearing his throat. He had nearly said: _"at the cave tending for Toronado"_, but he realized on time Victoria still didn't know about his little secret. He wondered if he should tell her then, but as always, he decided to leave the issue for later. He was too embarrassed, and feared her reaction for the deception. However, as everybody else, she should be suspicious about it now, so maybe it didn't matter anymore.

"Could you help me changing these bandages for lighter ones? I would like to be able to move my hand now, so you don't need to feed me anymore. I am a grown up man, Victoria, not a baby," he said with an embarrass smile.

"Yes, of course, I can do that. Where do you keep the spare bandages?"

"There should be some in that side table," he said, pointing at it with his fractured hand.

She got the materials and sat down beside him in bed. She took his left hand and gently removed the dressings covering it. Diego looked at her, immobile, distraught by the warm and fuzzy feeling he had right then, while he was comforted by her mere proximity and her willingness to help him. It should have been an innocent exchange, but he felt bad about it remembering how jealous Cristina had always been about Victoria getting near him. And she was right about that. There was no way to deny it: he felt attracted to Victoria, as always.

Diego was so distraught about feeling unfaithful to his wife already while she was still warm in her grave, he didn't notice Victoria didn't seemed surprised to find that stitched, deep cut in his left palm. She didn't gasp or react to it at all, and she carried on re-dressing that hand with a light bandage only as if nothing was wrong there.

"Should I do the right one too?"

"That one is fractured," he said, moving his hands away from her to avoid her touch. "Doctor Hernández should look at it."

"Yes, you are right. Anything else?"

"No. Thank you."

She stood up, walking towards the door, but then she came back and sat down at his side, looking nervous. She took a while, but then she spoke with a shaky voice, as someone who is trying to be brave and daring.

"Diego, I am so sorry about Cristina. Last week, when you didn't want to talk at all and you were lost in thought all the time, absent, you were so distraught I don't know if you registered my words: I am really sorry she passed away. I really am, no matter what other people may think under the circumstances. I just want to let you know I will be waiting for you, for whatever you need, and for as long as it takes, whenever you want to talk. Is that all right?"

Diego nodded, but he didn't say anything.

"Good. Rest now, please. I'll get you dinner later, and you can eat it yourself," she said, stroking his arm gently.

He watched her go, remembering then Cristina's words: _"when I go, you'll be released. No more anguish, no more choices; you'll be free."_ Those words didn't make sense to him by her deathbed, but now he had to wonder: was she giving him permission to have a relationship with Victoria? After all, she had asked Victoria to take care of Sofía… but it didn't make sense. Cristina hated Victoria. Sure she would be offended if he chose her to re-marry. And she would specially hate the fact he was having those kinds of thoughts already, only a few days after she had passed away.

That thought made him feel unworthy of carry on living one more time.

ZZZ

In the afternoon, at the alcalde's office, Ernesto found the false document Roberto had prepared for Zorro. He didn't need much deliberation to prepare a new one, a real pardon this time, as it was within his authority to grant that kind of official document, and he was sure the governor was going to approve of it as well. Zorro had been a thorn in the Spanish Government side for a long time, and he surely could be pardoned with the condition he would cease in his activities and don't interfere with Mexican affairs from now on.

Ernesto was busy all day with the investigation. He came back to the hacienda De la Vega in the late evening, after dusk, because he wanted to make sure the effects of the laudanum had past, as it was the third time he had travelled there to talk to Diego and he was quite fed up. The previous day the conversation with Diego had been a bizarre experience, like talking to a drunken toddler. Besides, because Don Alejandro and Victoria were there, he had not mentioned Zorro at all. But he hoped he could talk to Diego in private that night and finally find out more about Roberto and his plot.

On arrival, he was disappointed when he found out Diego was not there, as he had gone out with his daughter.

"Really? You must be joking, Don Alejandro," Ernesto said, annoyed. "Where can he be at this time of night? Are you trying to be difficult? Is that it?"

"Look, I thought you were not coming tonight, all right? It's late."

"You knew I was coming this evening. I told you so."

"Yes. Earlier. I thought you would come in the morning instead, so I told Diego he could go. He has to show her something. Anyway, you can wait here if you want. They should not be out for long because it's past Sofía's bedtime."

"All right. I'll wait here then. In the meantime, I'll talk to Señora Ortíz, as I still haven't got the chance to do so."

"Fine. You can wait in the library. I'll tell her to come to see you there."

"Thank you."

ZZZ

After dusk, when it was already dark enough, Diego and Sofía walked away from the house. They didn't need a torch because the moon was nearly full, bright and shiny in the sky, illuminating the landscape for them as a lantern, except when the scattered, large clouds covered it completely from time to time.

They walked slowly along the fields enjoying the cooling breeze of the night after a hot summer day. Diego limped due to the wound in his thigh but he tried to ignored the pain, as he ignored the pain in his hand while holding Sofía's. It was worth it, and he wanted to get away from the others.

After a short walk, Diego stopped and looked around. The hacienda was behind them, not far away, but they had already walked far enough. That looked like the perfect spot for star gazing, with no trees obscuring the view, and peace and quiet. He looked up to the sky then, searching for the Summer Triangle.

"Can you see that bright star?" he said, pointing at the brightest one.

"Which one?"

"That one, the brightest of that big triangle of bright stars. It is called Vega.

"Vega? Like us?"

"Yes. Just like us. That start is your mother. That's where she is now."

"Really? Is she watching me as she said?"

"Yes, of course, she is. Always. And she's so proud of you, and how brave you are."

"Hello!" she cried, waving her little hand to the sky.

"Let's stay here, in silence, and we'll talk to your mother, shall we?"

"Can she hear me if I don't talk loud?" Sofía asked.

"Of course she can."

"How?"

"She can hear what you think. It's like magic," he said mysteriously. Sofía smiled, nodding.

"Nice. I like magic."

They sat on the ground with their back resting on a boulder and then looked at the stars in the sky above them, in silence, focusing in Vega. Diego passed his left arm around her little shoulders, drawing her closer, feeling her comforting warmth on his side.

After a while, the moon got covered behind some clouds, and the stars looked more luminous against the now darker sky.

"It's brighter," Sofía whispered.

"Yes. That's because she is listening." In the dark, he could not easily see the broad smile forming in his daughter's face, but he could feel it against his flank.

The crickets were active that warm summer night, and their monotonous, interrupted chanting was the only noise they could hear. At least for a while, because suddenly they were not alone anymore. In the dark, Diego could not see the rider, but he could hear the sound of hooves approaching.

"Don't move," he whispered. "And keep quiet. Don't talk."

Diego had a sudden, ominous feeling of imminent danger. He got on his knees and then he stood up slowly, using the boulder as an aid to lift his body and also as a parapet. He looked over the side into the darkness, but he could not see the rider's face, only a black shadow approaching. At that moment, the moon reappeared from behind the clouds, and Diego was surprised to identify the alcalde's secretary, because he thought Roberto's men were all gone, including all the new soldiers.

He mentally cursed for wasting so much time feeling sorry for himself instead of finding out what was their ultimate purpose. Slowly, he turned to face his daughter, placing a finger on his lips to ask her one more time to be quiet.

ZZZ

Armando arrived at the same spot he had been visiting for the last few nights since Roberto was killed: the area containing the boulder, the earth wall, and the brook; all the landmarks mentioned in that old document. This was his last chance to find something there. Otherwise, he would have to leave in the morning empty handed. As he didn't care about Alfredo, he could leave him behind gladly, and he was considering doing so. Actually, if by any chance he could find anything that night, he was going to run with it, not bothering to go back to the hacienda at all.

He looked at the hacienda De la Vega in the distance, looking at the lights coming through the windows. It was a bit earlier than usual for him to star searching, as all the other nights the lights were already out in the house, but he had no time to waste. Besides, it was unlikely anybody would be around to notice him there, so it didn't matter if they were still up in the house. He dismounted, got the shovel from the saddle, and walked to the boulder.

Armando didn't notice anything abnormal until a shadow came out from behind the boulder and punched his face.

ZZZ

"Go home, quick! Run!" Diego shouted to Sofía. "Tell grandpa where we are!"

He knew the blow had been weak and ineffective but that was all he could do under the circumstances, as he had lost a great deal of strength since he had fallen prey to depression, losing so much weight. Besides, he always delivered the hard blows with his right hand, and this time he couldn't because it was still fractured, covered by a bandage, and he had to use his weakest hand to punch Armando.

Sofía did as she was told and started running towards the hacienda, easily, as she could see the building windows lighted by the candles in the distance as a beacon in the dark.

Armando rolled over the ground, caught off guard by that blow, but he wasn't seriously injured, not even dazed. He stood up quickly, grabbing the shovel he had dropped on the ground, and attacked his attacker with it.

Diego tried to duck. Unfortunately, beside his strength, his reflexes were also greatly affected by the recent ingestion of so much laudanum, and he wasn't fast enough. The shovel hit the side of his head and he fell on his back, dazed. While Diego was on the ground, obtunded, Armando lifted the shovel and hit his head for a second time, mercilessly, rendering him totally unconscious.

Armando threw the shovel to the ground and ran behind the little girl, but Sofía was too fast and had already disappeared into the darkness. He couldn't find her, and he was getting too close to the house to keep searching, so he came back quickly to the spot were Diego lay. He picked up the shovel, got his horse, and pulling from the reins he walked along the earth wall, away from the boulder. That day he had an idea: maybe the entrance to that cave could be at the other side of the earth wall, and the boulder was the land mark to find such a wall. It was a shame the old document was damaged, because that corner that was missing had probably contained the location of the gold mine and the treasure, and everything would have been much easier if Roberto had got the whole document intact, instead of raiding the area aimlessly trying to find the land marks for such a long time.

Armando walked about a hundred meters to get to the end of the earth wall, and then started digging there, as fast as he could, because the rescue party would come searching for Diego soon.

ZZZZZ

**AN - This wasn't planned. I swear. I don't know what happened there, because I was cruising to the end. I guess I couldn't resist the temptation of one more cliffy and another chance to maim Diego before I wrap this up. Ouch. Sorry! **

**Hopefully, only one more chapter left, but now I have to get Diego up an running again, so it may stretch a little. Why do I do this to myself? **


	57. Chapter 57 - Stuck

**Chapter 78 – Stuck**

"Grandpa! Grandpa!"

"That's Sofía. Something's wrong," Don Alejandro said, looking worried. He rushed to the entrance with Don Francisco and Felipe following behind. The little girl arrived then at the door, out of breath after the quick run.

"Grandpa, help Daddy!"

"What? What's wrong? Where is he?"

"There," she said pointing to the darkness, the way she came from. "A bad man came."

"A bad man?" Don Francisco said. "I'll get the guns." He came back to the house to get them, and also to get help from anybody available at that late hour.

"What's going on?" Ernesto said, also coming out to the entrance with Victoria.

"I don't know. Something happened to Diego. Sofía came back alone. She says they saw a man," Don Alejandro said.

"Papá punched him," the little girl said.

"Pedro. Go back to the pueblo and get the others, and the soldiers," Ernesto ordered to one of the two alguaciles who accompanied him that night. "Quick."

"Sofía, get in the house with grandma. We'll get to your daddy. Don't worry, _pequeña_," Don Alejandro said, taking her inside.

ZZZ

When he heard the search party coming, Armando took the shovel, got on his horse and galloped away a short distance. He hid out of sight, monitoring the situation, reluctant to give up. Not yet.

"Diego! Where are you?" Don Alejandro called, but he got no reply. The group spread out on that area, searching at the light of lanterns and torches. "Diego! Diego!"

After a while, Don Alejandro spotted a human form lying on the ground a short distance away, close to a large boulder.

"There he is!" he cried out, racing to that spot. "Madre de Dios! This cannot be happening, not again!" he said, kneeling beside Diego. "Wake up, Diego, wake up!"

He slapped his face gently a few times, and he was greatly relieved when Diego responded with a long, woeful moan before he opened his eyes slowly to focus on his father's face.

"Good Lord! How many times can you survive a blow to the head, Diego?" Don Alejandro said, worried by the trickle of blood running down over Diego's ear.

"Where is Sofía? Is she alright?"

"Yes, she is, don't worry. She's in the house. She told us you were attacked. Who did this? Do you know?"

"Armando. Roberto's secretary." Diego held his left hand up and his father helped him to sit up. He took his hand to the side of his head, and then looked at the blood-stained fingertips. "He may still be around here, because he was looking for something. He had a shovel. He hit me with it after I punched him. Be careful."

"Can you see anybody?" Don Alejandro cried to the group. "It was the alcalde's secretary! He could be still around! Be careful!"

The others searched the area quickly, but they could not see anybody else. The moon was hiding behind the dark, thick clouds again, and they could not see far with their lanterns.

"Let's go back to the house. Help me up," Diego said.

"Can you walk?"

"I don't know. I'm a bit dizzy, but I think so. Let's try."

Don Alejandro and Felipe helped him up, and supporting him on their shoulders they got Diego back to the hacienda.

ZZZ

Ernesto and the alguacil took part on the search, but, the same as the others, they gave up because it was so dark they couldn't see much. They followed Diego and the group back to the house. When they got there, Diego walked to the library and slumped on his favourite armchair, the one Roberto also favoured. While Felipe applied a clean cloth to the small wound oozing blood at the side of his head, the Judge from Monterey approached him.

"Don Diego, I have been itching to talk to you about a few issues," Ernesto said. "Yesterday you were still under the influence of your medication, so it wasn't possible. I came back tonight with that purpose. Do you feel well enough to talk now?"

"No, not really," Diego said, complaining of a headache. "I will need to rest a little, and get some bark infusion before I can talk to you."

"I'll prepare some," Don Alejandro said. He signalled to the Judge, pointing to the door, outside the room. "Can I talk to you for a moment, please?"

Ernesto followed him out, leaving Diego and Felipe alone in the library. The pair looked at each other for a split second and then nodded, understanding.

ZZZ

"Do you really have to question him now? Can't you wait a little bit longer? He's been hit on the head again, for Christ sake!" Don Alejandro said in the kitchen.

"Well, this is important. I have an idea of what can be going on, but I really have to talk to him. But of course, only when he is ready," Ernesto said.

Don Alejandro prepared the bark infusion as quickly as he could, and they returned to the library.

"After you," he said, walking behind the Judge.

When Ernesto entered the room he was surprised to find it empty.

"Where is your son?" he asked, turning to Don Alejandro behind him.

"Here, in the lib…" Don Alejandro started, coming inside as well, but he didn't finish the sentence, dropping his jaw. It looked like with the momentary distraction Diego and Felipe had disappeared through the secret door at the fireplace. He didn't think they would do that, and he had unwillingly contributed to their escape by taking the Judge with him to the kitchen. However, he had a great doubt: was Diego trying to be Zorro one more time, or he was just trying to avoid the Judge? He hoped it was the second option.

"I'm running out of patience, Don Alejandro. This is not a game! Where is your son?!"

"I… I… I don't know, sorry," the old don said, blushing. "Diego! Diego!" he called then, roaming the house while yelling. They searched the hacienda thoroughly, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Right. What a shame, because I have an official document your son would like to see. Never mind. The alguaciles have arrived from the pueblo. I'll find him myself. But you may be the reason why he doesn't get the pardon he could have received otherwise, and why you may end up in jail with him."

"A pardon? What do you mean? What…?"

"Too late, Don Alejandro. I'm fed up of your lies," he said, shaking his head, waving his hand as well. "Come on, let's go." He walked out of the hacienda with the alguaciles, leaving a regretful Don Alejandro behind.

ZZZ

Felipe got a set of spare clothes from an old chest, including a black mask and a cape, and took them to the table.

"You know me too well, Felipe. Yes, I have to find out what's going on, and I have to do it myself. I owe her this. Leaving the job to the judge would not be good enough, even if right now I don't feel up to it," Diego said, touching the wound on his head again. It had stopped bleeding. He was feeling better, not dizzy anymore, so he started to undress to put Zorro's outfit on. "No more self-pity and self-blame from now on. Cristina would like to see me finishing this off myself, wouldn't she?"

Felipe nodded, helping Diego to get ready.

"Help me with this," Diego said. "I need to get my hands in the gloves."

Felipe removed the bandages on Diego's hands. The stitches in the cuts in his palms were holding nicely, despite using the left hand to punch Armando, but his fractured right one hurt to get it inside the glove.

_"What are you going to do? You can't handle a sword like this, or hold the reins,"_ Felipe signed.

"I can with my left hand. Although, it had never been the same since the shoulder got damaged."

Felipe finished helping Diego to put the gloves on, and then helped him with the boots.

"I hope that man is not as good with the sword as Roberto was, or it will be a very short match."

_"Take this,"_ Felipe signed, offering Diego a loaded gun.

"I would normally refuse to carry that, but in this occasion, I'll take it. Thank you, Felipe."

_"Where are you heading?" _

"I think I'll start at Don Miguel's. He should know what Armando is up to. Otherwise I'll come back to the spot where he attacked me and I'll follow his tracks, if I can find them in the dark."

_"I'll follow you."_

"No. Stay here. Make sure Sofía and everybody else is safe, please. Don't worry, I'll be alright."

He climbed up to the saddle, resenting the sword wound in his thigh when the stitches pulled, but he didn't say anything to Felipe. Before he could urge Toronado to walk to the back door, Don Alejandro came through the secret entrance at the fireplace, storming in.

"Diego! I knew it! What are you doing, Son? You are in no condition to play Zorro tonight!"

"I have to, Father."

"No, you don't have to. Come on, the other day you destroyed the place and you said you hated Zorro, and now look at you: wearing that mask again. Get down that horse, please."

"No. I have to find out what's going on. All this time I was so numbed I didn't think about it, but I still don't know why Roberto was here. I owe it to Cristina, because she died for it."

"The Judge will find out. And he will find you too. He just went out looking for you."

"Well, let him find me. Then maybe he can help me."

"He said he had a pardon for you, Diego, but now he is so cross with us he may not grant it. You may still end up in jail. You shouldn't have disappeared from the library when you did, before talking to him."

"I told you he knew about Zorro. Never mind. I'm going to pay a visit to Don Miguel first. You and Felipe stay here keeping the hacienda safe, all right?" he said, knowing perfectly well it would not be the case and they would try to follow him.

"No way. I'm going there too," Don Alejandro said defiantly, lifting his chin. Felipe nodded, tapping his chest quickly.

"No. Please. Promise you'll stay here. Take care of Sofía. I don't know what that man is up to. He may come to the hacienda while I'm out looking for him. Don't make me worry about you as well. Please."

"No," Don Alejandro said, stubborn, shaking his head.

"Do I have to dismount and tie you both to a post?" Diego said with his hands at the saddle pommel, leaning forward as if he was about to jump off Toronado.

"All right, all right. Gosh, you are stubborn! But, if you haven't returned before dawn, we'll go after you. Deal?"

"Hopefully, I won't need so much time. Deal." Diego pressed with his heels on Toronado's flanks, urging him to the rear entrance. Don Alejandro and Felipe watched him disappear down the dimly lit corridor.

"_Really?_" Felipe said with his eyes when he turned to look at the old don.

"Nah… I'll follow him. You and Francisco can guard the hacienda. We'll tell the workers to be alert as well. Come on," the old don said, walking upstairs briskly to return to the library.

ZZZ

Armando waited half an hour after the group left in case they would return. As they didn't, he came back to the far side of the earth wall and continued searching. It took him a while, but in the end he uncovered an old door under the soil. The wood had partially decayed, but it was still holding on after all those years covering that entrance, buried underground. Some parts crumbled to pieces when he pushed it with the shovel, so he destroyed a large portion to make a large enough hole to squeeze through, careful not to make it too big or the light of his lantern could be too visible outside.

He waited a bit to allow some air flowing into the opening, and then he lit an oil lantern to peek inside the hole. It looked like the entrance to a cave of some sort. He made his way in carefully, extremely excited by the discovery.

ZZZ

"A treasure? Is that what Roberto was looking for? Gold?" Ernesto said, incredulous. He had been interrogating Don Miguel aggressively for a while, menacing to charge him with the assassination of alcalde De Soto, Don Pedro, and his daughter Angelita, among other things, and in the end the man had cracked, telling him everything he knew in exchange of a softer punishment for his own involvement in the plot. Although, he failed to mention he was Roberto's brother.

"Yes, he had an old document he found in the Philippines. It mentioned three landmarks, but it didn't say exactly where it was. Part of the document was missing."

"Where are the landmarks? In the hacienda De la Vega?"

"Yes."

"What are they?"

"A boulder, an earth wall, and a brook. They mark the location of a cave of some sort, or a mine, or something. The men looked everywhere for the landmarks. Armando said he found the spot close to the hacienda de la Vega, but I don't know exactly where."

"What else do you know?"

ZZZ

When Zorro arrived at Don Miguel's hacienda a large group of alguaciles and Mexican soldiers were already there. Some were outside guarding the entrance, so he had to go around the house to climb up the rear fence on the other side, careful not to be seen. He jumped into the patio inside and got near the window, leaning close to it in a similar manner De Soto did before he was killed.

When Zorro heard Don Miguel talking about the treasure buried close to a boulder, an earth wall, and a brook, he recognized the place. He had used it as a playground when he was a child, as it was so close to the hacienda. It was the spot where he had the encounter with Armando, precisely by that boulder.

He silently got out of the patio, climbed up to Toronado, and headed back to that spot as fast as he could, ahead of the others, cursing because he had wasted precious time.

ZZZ

When Zorro got close to the boulder he realized the area had numerous holes where the soil had been moved and excavated, something he didn't realize before when he was distracted, star gazing with Sofía. Helped by the moonlight, he also spotted the hoof prints along the earth wall, and followed them to the end. There, he saw a fainted light coming out of a hole.

_That could be the cave Don Miguel mentioned_, he thought. He dismounted then, and before he disappeared through that opening he whispered to Toronado.

"Stay close."

The black stallion neighed softly and moved away from the earth wall, but only a short distance.

Inside there was a natural cave which had been enlarged, excavated and underpinned like a rudimentary mine, following a downward slope. He looked at the roof, which was supported by old, rough beams made of whole tree trunks, and he shook his head, apprehensive, because it didn't look very stable. Then he spotted Armando at the far end, close to a lantern. He was checking the contents of a few chests and caskets, unaware of his presence. Close to the caskets Zorro spotted some ancient artefacts covered in dust, probably of a native Indian origin, but Armando wasn't interested in those.

Zorro silently grabbed the gun in his belt with his left hand, but then he looked at the unstable ceiling again. _Not a good idea this is_. He considered going back outside to wait for that man at the entrance, but he reckoned Armando was so distracted taking pieces of gold and precious gems out of the caskets to fill a large bag, it could be easier to take him by surprise right then. He turned the gun around to hold it by the barrel and walked a few steps forwards, deeper into the mine, with the intention to take him down with a hard blow. Unfortunately, when he was quite close he accidentally stepped on an old, dry twig, which cracked under his weight, and the cave walls amplified the subtle sound greatly. Armando, startled by that noise, turned quickly to face him.

"Zorro… What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Stopping you from steeling this treasure, I presume?"

Armando got hold of his own gun with a swift move. Zorro quickly rolled his weapon to hold it by the grip again, and they aimed at each other, hesitating for a moment with their fingers at the trigger.

"Don't be stupid. The ceiling may collapse at any time. We can resolve this outside," Zorro said, stepping back cautiously while still aiming with his gun, the one he knew he was not going to fire inside that cave.

Armando looked at the cave roof and then shrugged his shoulders, looking back at Zorro.

"I'll take my chances here, thank you."

He fired his gun, but the bullet missed Zorro when he jumped out of the way, landing on his face on the hard ground.

The blast echoed in the cave and the badly supported roof gave way with a loud rumble. Zorro stood still on the ground covering his head with his arms while rocks and soil fell all over his body and all around him. When the cave-in stopped and the noise of the falling rocks and beams subsided, Zorro opened his eyes to look around, but all he could see was pitch black. He coughed, gasping for air, as it was difficult to breathe with so much dust and particles floating in suspension like a thick cloud inside the cave. He moved his arms, dropping the rubble accumulated over his head, and pulled the mask over his nose to use it as a filter to avoid breathing in all that dust through his open mouth.

Surrounded by darkness he started to panic, but he pushed his fear away and tried to stay calm and positive. He didn't have a candle, or torch, or anything to light at hand, not even a flint and steel set to make some sparks. Armando's lantern had probably been crushed at the back of the cave, but maybe it would be worth trying to find it.

"Armando," he called softly, but he got no reply. He could be unconscious or even dead at the back of the cave, for all he knew, so he didn't call him again, afraid to cause a further collapse of the roof if he cried louder.

Zorro turned on his side to sit up, displacing some more material off his back, but then he realized he could not move his right foot. It was trapped under the rubble, although it didn't hurt much. In the darkness, he managed to turn his body a little and tried to push whatever was pinning him down away from his foot, but he couldn't. It was a large rock, one that didn't move at all when he, hurting his fractured right hand, pushed it away with all his remaining strength. But there was no use. He was trapped, alone in the dark. And now he really panicked.

ZZZZZ


	58. Chapter 58 - home at last

**Chapter 79 – Home at last**

After Don Alejandro left, Don Francisco organized the workmen in small groups to guard the hacienda as if they were trained soldiers.

"That man may show up tonight, so we have to be alert," he said to the group at the stables. "If you see something suspicious, call for help. And, please, don't shoot to kill if you have to stop him that way. We need him alive to find out what's going on. Is that clear?"

"Sí, señor."

"All right. Come on Felipe, let's go back to the house. The women are alone right now. You three come with us as well," he said, pointing to them. They headed back to the house while the rest of the men took their assigned positions at the property.

ZZZ

Victoria had put Sofía and her son to bed. She came back to the lounge and sat down in an armchair, looking casually through the window. In the moonlight, she saw a black form moving fast in the direction of the field they had found Diego earlier on.

_Zorro?_ she thought, incredulous. _I mean, Diego. Yes, Diego… What the hell is he doing, going back there?_

She was alone in that room and nobody else had seen Zorro passing by. She hesitated for a while, thinking maybe she had imagined it. Diego had burnt Zorro's clothes, and she doubted he could ever play that role again after his recent meltdown, only two days ago. _However…_ She went to the library and got down to the cave, where she realized Toronado was missing, as well as Zorro's sword. She got up again to tell Don Alejandro, but she could not find him. Actually, she couldn't find any of the men right then, which was a bit odd.

Without much thinking, she grabbed one of the loaded guns Don Francisco had prepared before and got to the entrance. Obviously, she could no longer see the rider in the dark, but she wanted to make sure Diego was all right. She grabbed a flint and steel set and one of the lanterns they had used before when searching for Diego, which were still discarded at the entrance, and she headed back to that spot in the darkness, walking under the unreliable moonlight that would light the landscape only from time to time that night, only when the thick clouds retreated.

ZZZ

Armed to the teeth, Don Alejandro had got on Dulcinea and had headed to Don Miguel's hacienda. He was carrying several guns, his rifle and sword, and lots of ammunition, keen to be helpful if Diego needed his help.

Down at the cave, he had had mixed feelings when he saw him dressed as Zorro again. On the one hand, he was proud of him, but on the other, when Diego had that emotional meltdown and despite the seriousness of the situation, he had been somehow relieved because that was the end of Zorro and the end of the worry for him as a father. That was only two days ago, and now the worry for his safety had started again. Hopefully, the Judge would reconsider and still grant Zorro the pardon he deserved. However, if he didn't because of his annoying and deceiving attitude, he could never forgive himself.

When he arrived at the hacienda, a large group of soldiers and the alguaciles were waiting outside. He failed to be inconspicuous while deciding what to do, and one of the alguaciles spotted him under the trees, close to the house.

"You! Stop right there!" he cried, aiming his musket at him, alarmed by the ridiculous amount of weapons that man in the shadows was carrying. "Show me your hands!"

Don Alejandro did as he was told, lifting his hands up while Dulcinea, with a free rein and by her own accord, walked out of the shadows of the vegetation, coming closer to the hacienda.

"That's Don Alejandro," one of the soldiers said.

"Yes, I am Don Alejandro de la Vega. And I need to see señor Sauras."

"Get down the horse," the alguacil ordered.

When Don Alejandro dismounted, the alguacil took all his weapons, and then he walked him to the house.

"The judge is busy right now, but I'll tell him you are here."

"Thank you," the old don said, unsure what he would tell Ernesto to justify his presence there, and which words to use to avoid upsetting him even more.

ZZZ

Trapped in that cave, Diego had lost the notion of time completely. He didn't know how long he had been lying there, because it felt like hours already, but one thing he knew for sure was the little time he had left, because the quality of the air in that closed space was quite poor already, and the amount of dust he was getting in his lungs wasn't helping at all. He had trouble breathing, coughing most of the time, trying to do as little noise as possible to avoid any further collapse of the mine roof, and he was quite uncomfortable lying in that awkward position supported by his elbows over the hard, rocky soil.

In his misery, he scolded himself for being so stupid, for trying to neutralize Armando inside the cave instead of waiting for him outside. Now, his chances of getting out of there on his own were zero. _But, what about a rescue party?_

He also realized he had made a mistake when he had bargained with his father and Felipe so they would not try to follow him. That rescue party wasn't coming. Not until dawn, at least, if they realized where he was. But, even if his father was really coming to rescue him in the morning, it could be too late if he died asphyxiated before his arrival. _Maldita sea._

He also blamed his pride, because he could have talked to the judge first, and that man would have taken charge of the investigation, instead of him going out alone in a one-man mission without back up. He then hoped the judge would think about the boulder where they found him unconscious before. Maybe he could count on that man to find him on time. After all, Ernesto was a highly intelligent man with an analytical mind, so he should recall that boulder to know where to start searching for the treasure.

Then he had a disturbing, but not completely unpleasant thought: maybe it would have been better if he had been shot through the heart, rather than dying slowly in that pitch-black nightmare, which was getting on his nerves, and then he could have joined Cristina in heaven, if he was allowed in there. However, he rejected that idea immediately, as a moment of weakness, because dying should not be an option now. It was the coward's way.

_I'm sorry, Cristina. For everything. I'm so stupid. I don't want to die now and leave Sofía on her own, I really don't_, he thought, surprised by the tears soaking his dusty mask, because he was sure he didn't have any more tears left after the lifetime of crying he had done in only one morning. He imagined that, if she could be with him right then, Cristina would probably tell him off and smack him twice; first for his carelessness, and then for weeping like a baby.

When he calmed down and his eyes dried up again, he looked around one more time, trying to spot a little bit of light, anything to suggest there could be an opening close to him that would let some air inside the cave, and a way to escape. But he could only see black. That moment was the first time he could really imagine the tribulations of blind people, surrounded by that blackness everyday of their lives. It was a sad notion, and also a scary one.

An irrational fear got hold of him then, due to the eerie silence and the darkness, and he started to imagine all sort of creatures lurking around him; dangerous, unnatural creatures, like ghosts and demons he could not see.

He nearly had a heart attack when he heard a noise which sounded like a corpse making his way out of a grave.

ZZZ

"Don Alejandro. I see you are determined to be a thorn in my backside. What are you doing here?" Ernesto Sauras said after he finished interrogating Don Miguel, who was taken to jail by two alguaciles.

"I'm looking for my son. I thought he could be here."

"Really? Why?" Ernesto asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Look, you have to help him. He could be in danger."

"Why would that be the case? He had a headache, and he was going to have a bark infusion and a quiet night home… why would he come here instead?" Ernesto said, enjoying the moment.

"Stop the games, please. You know who he is so you can imagine that, after being attacked tonight, he has gone out to find out why. I was as surprised as you were when he disappeared from the library, but I'm worried because he is in no condition to play the hero tonight. Very worried, indeed. And you can help him. I know you can."

"I see. Actually, maybe you can help as well. Do you know of a location close to your hacienda where there is a large boulder, an earth wall, and a brook in close proximity?"

"What? Why?"

"Just think about it."

"I don't know."

"Look. I got this map of the territory with some properties marked on it, including yours, and this old document talking about a treasure buried in California," he said, showing them. "Armando took them from the alcalde's office after Roberto died."

"Yes. I saw that map before. Zorro stole it from the alcalde."

"But he didn't admit it as evidence in the trial, I know."

"Who gave it to you?"

"Don Miguel did. He showed me an interesting secret room under the Persian rug in the lounge."

"Ah…let me think… A boulder, a brook…" the old don said, thinking hard. "Yes! I got it! The same place where we found Diego tonight. He was by the boulder, but there is also an earth wall and a brook nearby. Diego used to play there when he was a kid. Why are you asking me this? Do you think there is a treasure in that area?"

"There is something buried there, yes, and I think Roberto's secretary was looking for it when he hurt your son. I thought that could be the spot, because of the boulder, but I wanted to be sure. Come on. Let's go back there, quick."

ZZZ

With his heart pounding in his chest, Diego listened to that noise, fearing something unearthly and horrible was going to reach for him at any moment. Then, he heard a muffled neigh, and relieved, he realized the noise was caused by Toronado's hooves digging above him.

_Attaboy!_ he thought, excited. But his joy was short-lived because more soil fell on him from the unstable roof. _Stop, stop, stop!_

The clever horse may have realized what was happening, because the digging noises stopped, and Diego was again left alone in the silent darkness. He tried to control his fear, but it was creeping back in, and he nearly screamed when he felt a cool breeze on his face. Realizing there should be no air currents in the cave, his heart raced again, until he heard a voice whispering right on his ear: "_you are free_." Instead of feeling terrified, he felt strangely comforted by that voice, and calmed, although he wasn't sure he had heard the voice inside or out of his head. He had the sensation he wasn't alone anymore, and it wasn't a bad feeling. It was soothing.

"Cristina?" he whispered, but he got no answer. He tried to move his foot, but he was still trapped. No, he wasn't free. It was a mistake. "I'm not free!"

"_She's coming_," said the voice, right on his ear again.

"Who? Is it you, Cristina?" he whispered again, hopeful. Instead of getting an answer, he felt the cool breeze on his face again, and then he had the unsettling sensation he was on his own in the dark just as before. Whoever had talked to him was gone already. _Gone_ if he hadn't imagined it, because he could be losing it, hearing voices like a mad man…

ZZZ

Victoria covered the distance to the area where they had found Diego before, wondering all the time what was her real purpose carrying a gun. Was she really going to use it? She wasn't the heroic type, at least not at night, because she was afraid of the dark and she wanted to light up the lantern, but she didn't want to give her position away if that horrible man was still around. She had not forgotten how he didn't let them get out of the kitchen when Roberto was assaulting Cristina, and she was scared of him. After Cristina died she had asked Dr Hernández about her, worried she had been raped as well, but the good doctor reassured her it had not been the case because Zorro got there in time to stop it. Then, thinking about Roberto, she recalled her own ordeal again, and she immediately held the gun tighter.

When she arrived there, she spotted Toronado digging frantically, almost looking like a dog burying a bone, but she could not see Zorro, nor Roberto's secretary. She approached the black stallion cautiously, making sure he could see her clearly.

"Toronado, what are you doing?" she said in a low voice.

The mighty horse stopped to look at her, with his ears up; neighed as if that was a good enough explanation for her; and then carried on digging with his right hoof.

"Where is Zorro? Is he there with you?"

She came closer, and the horse stopped digging again. She inspected the ground, but she could not really see much in the dark. She got some dry herbs, used the flint to make a small fire, and lit the lantern with it. Then she realized part of that earth wall had collapsed, and the soil on top looked fresh and turned. But she could not see any openings.

"Is he buried under there?"

Toronado shook his head up and down, as if he was nodding.

"No, you are a horse. We are not having a conversation, are we?" she said, feeling silly. But the black horse _nodded_ again, and stumped the ground one more time.

"Die…Zorro, are you there?" she called. She waited for a moment, and then she called again, this time shouting. "Zorro!"

She heard a fainted _yes_, that seemed to come from somewhere underneath her feet. She left the lantern on the ground a short distance beside her and, on her knees, she started to dig with her bare hands, as she didn't have a shovel or any other tool at hand, other than the gun. She looked at it for a moment, considering its shape, but then she put it aside again. The last thing she wanted was shooting herself with it while using it as a spade.

After a short while digging, she noticed the soil around her slipping down, as flour in a sieve, and suddenly the ground gave way and she was dragged down with it.

ZZZ

When Diego was questioning his own sanity, he heard another voice. This one was different, muffled, and coming from some distance away, not whispered down his ear like the other one. He listened intently, and then he heard the voice again.

"Zorro!"

He knew that voice. It was Victoria's. He was scared of a new cave-in, but he replied with a loud, enthusiastic "yes!" before he could stop himself.

The digging noise started again, and with it more soil fell over him one more time like a light shower of dust. Fearing the worse he braced himself, covering his head with his arms as he had done before.

"No! Stop! It may…"

He didn't finish the sentence because the roof collapsed again. More rubble fell over him, and as it happened before, he couldn't breathe. But this time, when it was over, he could see a light hovering above him like a floating angel.

ZZZ

Victoria landed on the cave on top of the rubble. Other than some scratches, she was surprised she hadn't hurt herself that much in the fall. It was dark in there and she couldn't see much around her, despite her lantern, which was still in one piece, miraculously standing outside at the edge of the new opening, illuminating the cave from above.

"Zorro! Where are you?" she called again. The only reply she got was a distant, constant cough, and the laboured noises of someone trying to breathe. But she couldn't see him. "I can't see you. I'm going to get the light down here. Hold on!"

She looked up, glad to see the fallen ground had created a handy slope she could easily climb to get outside, and on her hands and feet she got to the top like an agile monkey. She grabbed the lantern and then got down again, careful not to lose her footing nor drop the lantern, and started the search for Zorro. The gun was nowhere to be seen, lost in the rubble, and she hoped she would not need it.

Inside the cave there was a mess of fallen rocks, soil and what it looked like long tree trunks and long pieces of wood, all covered by a cloud of floating dust.

"Zorro! Where are you? Say something, please!"

"Here," said a weak voice, followed by more coughs.

She finally spotted him, only a short distance away from her and the light she held up at arm's length. Large rocks lie close to him, surrounding him, and it was a miracle he had not been crushed by them. Only one of the rocks was trapping his foot, on top of a thick beam and some smaller stones, and he was lucky the foot was only jammed under it, but not damaged. In addition, he had a lot of debris covering his body, and a large piece of wood resting across his back. She left the lantern on the ground and with great effort she lifted the heavy beam off his back, dropping it to a side.

"Are you all right? Are you hurt? Talk to me!"

"I'm not sure yet. Help me up, please."

Remembering he had a broken hand, she got his wrists and pulled to get him in a semi-upright position, resting on his elbow. He then looked around him, grateful for the light, and he realized as well how lucky he had been, lying in that position practically unharmed surrounded by all those rocks.

"Oops. That was close."

He looked at the back of the cave, where Armando should be. That area had collapsed completely, and there was a new wall of rocks and soil there. No way could he have found the lantern there, and Armando was probably dead under all that rubble.

He turned again to look at the rock over his foot, paying attention to the thick trunk sticking out from underneath it.

"Do you think you can use the beam as a lever to lift the rock a bit? You'll have to do it at the count of three, because it may break and then it may crush my foot for good."

"I can give it a try, yes."

"Have a look around first. Make sure there is nothing else on the way before you try to move the rock."

She got the lantern and inspected the rock from every angle.

"No. It's fine. Nothing else is leaning on it."

"Good. In that case, grab the beam, as far as you can from the rock, and at the count of three, pull up as hard as you can."

"Shouldn't I push down instead?"

"If my foot wasn't trapped under it, probably," he said, smiling. "I only need you to move it a little bit, not lift it. If you push down it may be easier for you, but you may hurt me. Is that all right? Can you do it?"

"Yes," she said, doing as instructed. "I'm ready now."

"All right, then. One… two… three!"

Victoria pulled the beam up while Zorro pulled back to get his feet from underneath the rock. Just when it started to move, the beam broke and the huge rock dropped down with a thud. Zorro saved his foot by a whisker.

"Are you all right?" Victoria said, alarmed, pushing away the broken beam to get to his side.

"Yes. Just. Thank you, you got it!" He dragged his body slowly away from the rock and got on his feet, shaking his clothes to get rid of the remaining debris, and he removed the dusty hat to shake his head.

"It's so good to see you, Victoria," he said, hugging her tightly. "I thought I was dying here. Thank you so much. You saved me. And it's not the first time."

"I'm glad I saved you!" she said, laughing in his arms. "Come on, let's get out of here."

As they parted, breaking the embrace, Diego looked at her intently, and she froze on the spot, unable to move or avert her eyes.

He didn't know exactly why —maybe it was just the joy to be alive— but he leaned forward and kissed Victoria's lips, very lightly and gently, lingering there on the surface while he hesitated. At the back of his mind he felt deeply uncomfortable getting so close to Victoria, as if he was cheating on Cristina, but he pushed that thought away for a few more seconds of… of… _of what?_ _Comfort?_ Yes, it was comfort what he needed, more than pleasure, and certainly more than lust. He needed this, although he felt awful at the same time. On their own accord, his arms embraced her again, and then his lips pressed on hers until they open up to him, letting him in, and he got lost in her.

When they parted, Victoria looked at him with her exultant joy hiding behind a façade of calm and composure, but then she felt disheartened when she saw the guilt and uneasiness in his eyes. He wasn't ready for this, and he would not be for a long, long time.

"If this is the way you want it to be… _Zorro_. But there is no need to go back to the old ways, to get stolen kisses here and there. You can trust me now. I know _you_ now."

He looked at her, surprised, panicking for a moment with the embarrassment. Then he smiled nervously.

"You know?"

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"Since…" she started, but she got interrupted by a voice outside the cave.

"This is Ernesto Sauras, the Judge from Monterey. Zorro, come out of there, please."

From the opening on the earth wall Ernesto could see Zorro standing back to them. He didn't reply, but the man in black looked up briefly and then walked a few steps deeper into the cave, out of sight due to the angle with the opening.

Zorro had looked at Ernesto, and then at the ceiling, and that part looked quite stable, so instead of coming out he pushed Victoria back, still waiting for her answer.

"Since…?" he said, as she kept silent.

"I had known since…" she started again.

"I can grant you a pardon, Zorro, issued for you by the Mexican Government. This time for real!" Ernesto said. He paused for a moment, and as he still had no answer, he continued. "There is nothing to be afraid of. Officially, you are not a criminal anymore. Come out, please," he tried again, calm, but he was losing his patience already.

"He could be in danger! That man could be aiming at him with a gun for all we know!" Don Alejandro said in a low voice, tagging at Ernesto's sleeve.

"No. He's just avoiding me. I don't think he is in danger. Not anymore," Ernesto said. "Unless I have to get down there to drag him out. Then he will be!"

"A pardon? That's great," Victoria said to Zorro. "You'll be free."

"I guess," he said, shrugging his shoulders. _Is that what the voice said? "You are free" because Zorro is pardoned?_ he wondered. He continued looking at her, waiting for an answer. "So, you have known since…"

"Don Diego de la Vega, come out of that cave right now! I know it is you under that mask. Trust me, this is over, and you don't need to hide anymore!" Ernesto said, louder now.

Zorro and Victoria looked at each other for a few more seconds, intently.

"Since _now_," Zorro said then, letting out a long sigh. Then, he slowly removed his mask, uncovering his filthy, dirt-smudged face.

"Well, the secret is really out now. No need for this anymore, don't you think?" he said, letting the mask slip through his gloved fingers. It gently floated for a couple of seconds in the air before it landed at his feet.

"Diego, I only figured it out when Cristina died," she finally explained, with a half-lie. "I felt so bad. I couldn't come to terms how I was unable to realize sooner. It should have been obvious to me, especially after the hearing, but I still could not see it because I was a fool in denial."

"I am the one to be ashamed. For not having the courage to tell you when I had the chance, and because I pushed you away with my inertia. Forgive me for lying to you, for misleading you for so long while making you believe you could have a life with me."

"Oh, Diego. Why did I go so foolishly? How could I reject you to marry Juan? But what it's done, it's done. It is in the past now. And, probably you didn't realize, but I was at the cave with your father and Felipe when you had that nervous breakdown. I didn't want you to know I knew your secret. I didn't want to force myself onto you until you were ready to move on. But I know you are not there yet, Diego. I know it's too soon."

"Don Diego, please," Ernesto insisted, impatient. "I really don't want to order the soldiers to step in to get you. I don't want anybody getting harmed. Get out now!"

"Diego, please, say something!" Don Alejandro said. "Do you need help to get out?"

"I'm coming out! For Christ sake! Just give me a moment, will you?!" Diego shouted back, annoyed by the interruptions.

"What do we do now?" Victoria asked, coming closer to Diego again.

"I have a few ideas, but they would have to wait," he said, gently taking her hand to kiss it. "As you said, I'm not ready for this. I need time. Please, give me time."

"All the time you need. I'll be waiting for you, however long it takes. I'm not going anywhere."

He hugged her again, burying his face in her hair.

"Thank you," he whispered, trembling with the emotion. She embraced him as well, with her arms around his back holding him tightly, and he felt deeply comforted, with the exact same feeling of peace she had provided when his mother died, when she hugged him at the cemetery. A soothing feeling as the one he had felt in the dark.

Now he knew it was really Cristina talking to him, and not his imagination, and it all made sense. _You are free. She's coming_.

He was finally home, at last, and it felt so good.

ZZZZZ

**A.N – And it is done! Finally! A D/V story, long, twisted, violent, sad, and something I hope you have enjoyed reading. At least I enjoyed writing it, but I didn't think it was going to take me so long, to be honest. I had fun, but I also learnt a lot along the way (and not only 1820's medical procedures… ) **

**Thanks for the nice reviews and comments, and for taking the time to read it.**

**Now, because it took me nearly 3 years to write the 3 parts, if you liked reading this story in instalments, I suggest you go back to read the whole thing from Part 1 because it really reads like a book, in a continuous story linking the 3 challenges. I did that myself recently to tie everything up at the end, and I was gladly surprised by it (and also found lots of typos and mistakes, and bits and pieces I corrected along the way… yikes. Proofing and editing never ends!) So, I replaced the chapters and now there is not so much difference in style between the writing on part 1 and 3 (there was before!) and it is more uniform now to read. But the story is exactly the same, no added or taken parts.**

**If you read the whole story again and want to leave some reviews here and there, that would be great, thank you. Don't be shy.**

**I was going to add a short, funny epilogue at the end of this chapter, but because it is already approaching 5000 words, I'll post it in a last chapter on its own. So, this is not completely done yet. One more chapter. Hopefully tomorrow.**


	59. Chapter 59 - Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Alejandro and Sofía de la Vega were at their favourite spot for star gazing in a warm summer night: lying down close to each other on top of the American Indian Museum's roof, with their bodies at a slight angle, with only their heads and shoulders touching lightly.

"People liked the new exhibition of Indian art today," Sofía said.

"Yes, we had lots of visitors, but I think most of them came to see the colourful gems and the golden jewellery," Alejandro said. "They have never been on display before."

"Don't you think it is a bit risky to display such items? We could have bandits trying to steal them."

"No. They wouldn't dare. They are afraid of Father. After all, he is a legend."

"But he is getting old."

"Legends never grow old! Legends grow bigger and stronger as the time goes by. That's why they are called _legends_," Alejandro said, laughing.

"I'm serious, you fool!" she said, slapping his arm.

"Yes, I know. Sorry," he said, taking her hand on his while still chuckling. "Don't worry, sister. Nothing is going to happen. Everybody respects our dad, and after all the money he gave away on charity projects when he closed the gold mine last year, now he has even more friends, powerful ones. And I think the museum is a great idea. People should be able to appreciate how advanced that ancient culture was by coming here to see those things by themselves. I think it's amazing how those Indians could do that fine detail and so much stuff donkey's years ago, before the Europeans came to this land. And we are supposed to be the clever ones!"

"Yes. Good job Dad managed to recover most of the Indian artefacts when they re-opened the mine. Do you remember how excited he was every time they found something intact in the rubble?"

"No, not really. How can you remember that? We were so young then."

"I don't know how, but I do. I remember many things that happened back then when we were little. Like my mother: I remember her face, and her long, dark hair, and how she told me she was like a sleeping princess who could not be awaken by a kiss."

"I envy you, Sofía. You still have memories of your mother. I don't remember my father at all, because I was only a baby when he died," Alejandro said while staring at the dark, starry sky, holding her hand tighter.

"Yes. I still remember her quite well. And I know where she is, because she told me," she said with a broad smile, pointing at Vega, the brightest star over their heads.

"That was a nice touch from your dad: Vega."

"Yes it was."

"Do you know one thing I remember clearly about that time when we were little? The first time I tried the wooden swords with abuelo Alejandro, and how you whacked my head with one of them. Shame he didn't have so much time to play with us when he became the Alcalde, because he was so funny. Do you remember that?"

"Of course I do! That's one of my first memories too. The first time I won a fight with you!" she said, laughing.

"The first time of many... You are a natural with the sword. Not like me," he said, a bit bitter. He had always been jealous of Sofía because she was tall like both her parents, and she had inherited a natural ability for fencing.

Diego had taught them both the art of fencing, but she was much better at it, copying his movements effortlessly, while he had to practice for ages to get similar results, and she always won their friendly bouts. Always. It wasn't fair!

But, after all, Diego and Cristina were not _his_ parents. An important point he had to get across to his sister somehow, only if he would dare to do so.

She then turned on her side to look at him, grinning.

"I learnt a few more moves today," she teased. "Should I show you tomorrow?"

"No! It's too embarrassing!" he complained, turning on his side to look at her as well, still holding her hand in his, caressing it with his thumb. "Have mercy on me, please." _Yes, have mercy on me… Gosh, you are so beautiful! _he thought, swallowing hard, with his face only a few inches from hers.

"Well, I guess I got it from my mother. Dad says I look just like her, and she was an excellent fencer."

"And beautiful, like her daughter." _Now or never_, he thought, moving forwards to kiss her.

She was surprised by the move, and she froze with her eyes wide open for a moment, until she moved back, releasing her hand from his grip, and then she sat up quickly.

"This is so wrong!" she said while covering her face with her hands, embarrass. "We cannot do this, Alejandro."

"Why not?" he said, sitting up as well. She then turned to look at him with wild eyes.

"Because we are siblings, brother and sister, that's why! I love you, of course, but not this way. Not this way."

"Are you sure you don't? Because I do," he said, grabbing both of her hands this time. "I love you with all my heart, not only as my sister. I have been thinking about this for a while now. I think I have always loved you, probably since that time you whack me on the head with that wooden sword, or even before."

"No," she said, shaking her head with her eyes closed.

"We live in the same house and I call you _sister_, but we are not really related, can't you see? Our parents are different. We don't share the same mother or father. I can't see why we cannot marry."

"Marry? Are you crazy? You are my brother!" she said, pulling to get her hands free again, rejecting his touch.

"Technically… no. I'm not."

"Are you seriously asking me to _marry_ you? To marry my brother?"

"Yes, I am. I love you, and I want to marry you, sure. I can't think of a life with another woman by my side. And I think you love me too, despite of what you say. Please, be honest with yourself."

He leaned forward and kissed Sofía again, slowly, hesitating while contacting her lips until she let him in. It was the first real kiss for both of them, ever, and when their tongues found each other the feeling was exhilarant, exciting and comforting at the same time, like entering another dimension of the senses. It felt too good to be true, to be actually happening, because they both have been secretly longing for it. When they parted, they looked at each other, both sporting a silly, broad grin of happiness.

"I have to talk to Father about this. I really want to marry you, have a family with you. Otherwise, if this is not possible, I don't know how I will live the rest of my life if I cannot be with you," Alejandro said, resting his forehead on hers.

ZZZ

"You want to do _what_?" Diego cried, looking shocked.

"I want to marry Sofía," Alejandro repeated, blushing. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea, because he felt like a fool the way his stepfather was looking at him.

"What? Are you out of your mind?!"

"I love her, and I want to marry her. I know we are not really brother and sister, so I don't know why that would be such a problem."

The hint of a smile appeared at the corner of Diego's mouth, but Alejandro didn't notice it, only the severe way he was looking at him. He loved his stepfather, but that man, a living legend with the broadest back in Los Angeles, always towering over him, could be quite intimidating for the much shorter young man.

"You cannot do that! That's a crazy, stupid idea!" Diego shouted, red faced, with the veins protruding like pipes on his neck.

"But… but…" Alejandro tried, shrinking noticeably.

Diego tried to maintain a straight face to torture his stepson a bit longer, but he couldn't, and he finally burst out laughing.

"I knew it!" he said, grabbing the perplexed teenager by his shoulders, holding him at arm's length. "I bet your mother the other day you two would not get to your eighteen birthday without an engagement of sorts. So, I won!"

Alejandro was puzzled by Diego's reaction. He could not believe it. He was expecting some kind of lecture after the initial shouting and he had prepared the arguments he would need to win his case. He wasn't ready for that bizarre reaction.

"When Victoria and I married, we always thought this kind of thing could happen, as you had always been so close. We didn't encourage this, as you know, but we didn't want to interfere if it happened. I know you have had feelings for your sister for a long time now."

Alejandro was red as a tomato, up to his ears.

"Was it that obvious?"

"For me, yes. Because you reminded me of my younger self and how stupid I was trying to cover my love for a beautiful señorita once, a long time ago." He laughed again, enjoying the youngster's embarrassment. "And what about Sofía? Does she agree with your plan?"

"Yes. But only if you two approved this marriage."

"Why wouldn't we? As you said, you are not really brother and sister, and it's obvious you love each other, and you are best friends, which is an important point in any relationship. Of course I approve! You have my blessing. Just wait until I tell your mother… I won!" he said, walking swiftly out of the room, skipping like a child despite his graying temples. "Victoria!"

Alejandro shook his head, really baffled by that odd behaviour. Shortly after his stepfather left the room, his younger siblings, the ten year old twins, came into the library.

"What's going on?" Juan de la Vega said.

"Ah… Nothing."

"Don't lie, Alejandro. Something is up. Dad is acting loony," Cristina said.

"You'll find out soon enough, don't you worry. Only one thing: prepare for a big wedding."

"Oh, I love weddings! Who's getting married?" Cristina said.

"I am."

"With Sofía?" she said, clapping excitedly. "I knew you two would get married one day! See, Juan? I told you!"

Then, Alejandro's cheeks acquired the deeper shade of red ever possible. Even his little sister knew about it!

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

FIN

ZZZZZ

**A.N – and now it's really over! **

**I love this epilogue. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. **

**Such a treat to write this, with so much info buried in dialogue form. Much more fun than plainly exposing how they re-opened the mine, how Diego opened an Indian museum, how he and Victoria got married and had twins called Juan and Cristina to honour the departed, and even how Alejandro became the alcalde (a must in every Epilogue. He nearly always gets to be alcalde.) **

**And poor, young Alejandro… teased like that by Diego… LOL**

**Thanks for the nice reviews. I hope you continue to read my future stories, whenever the voices talk to me again to make me write some more maiming... But, at the moment, I need a break!**

4


End file.
